NOTIONS OF 

A YANKEE 

PARSON 



GEORGE L 
CLARK 




Class B R 95 



Book 






_ — , — — 



Copyright lf. 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



NOTIONS OF A YANKEE 
PARSON 



BY 

GEORGE L. CLARK 




BOSTON 
SHERMAN, FRENCH £f COMPANY 

1910 



T*\ 



aft ob 



Copyright, 1910 
Sherman, French & Company 



©CI.A268215 



k..' 



TO 

THE PARSON'S WIFE 

SUNNY, HIGH-HEARTED, FINER EVERY YEAR 

THIS VOLUME 

IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 



PREFACE 

A venture, even so unlike a sermon as the pres- 
ent little hazard, by a parson, without opening up 
the text, would be like a house without a doorstep. 

Notions extend from conceptions of the Milky 
Way to devices for milking a cow ; from the lay- 
out of the golden streets to carving a wedding 
chest. "Yankee Notions" suggests also dry 
goods, in dealing with which the New England 
Yankee is a proverbial expert ; hence, perhaps, the 
idea is apt in a title for this book. 

The occupations of a Yankee parson are so 
manifold, — from starting plants for the Paradise 
gardens to planting potatoes, from setting the 
pace for adolescent saints to setting hens, that you 
might possibly imagine that a seasoned Yankee 
parson would have a few notions if his mind has 
not gone altogether to seed. 

These notions, now coyly offered, may be 
caught up for a moment, or left to wither like so 
many other tender things in this frosty world. 
Whatever their fate, the parson with becoming 
humility cherishes the alluring hope that no pul- 
pit tone will stale them, that while some of the 
topics discussed are serious, the treatment will 
not be found monotonous or sanctimonious, that 
someone, somewhere, may find in the varied bill 
of fare a crumb of pleasure or a relish of healthy 
cheer. If he gets nothing else, may he catch the 



PREFACE 

flavor of a happy lif e now looking evenward, the 
life of a man who rejoices more and more that he 
is a parson, — and especially a Yankee parson. 

G. L. C. 
Wethersfield, Connecticut. 



CONTENTS 

CHAP. PAGE 

I. Spiritual Gymnastics 1 

II. The Parson in His Garden . . 21 

III. The Weather .... 31 

IV. The Good Old Times 
V. The Christianity Needed To-day . 46 

VI. A Minister and His People . . 59 

VII. Some Things to Emphasize in 



Preaching 
VIII. Earthquakes and God 
IX. The Use of the Remainders 
X. The Later Years . 
XI. The Unremembered 



71 
82 
91 
99 
108 



XII. Optimism, the Minister's Business . 115 



I 

SPIRITUAL GYMNASTICS 

One of the most interesting phases of these 
agile and inventive days is the ease with which 
ancient faiths are set aside as dying or dead; 
elderly doctrines tossed overboard, new religions 
invented, Christ's teachings so moulded that that 
the apostles would not recognize them, and the 
gospel narrative reduced to the commonplace 
level of our prosaic times Benighted Uzzah fared 
badly for trying to steady the arkwagon; now 
scores are applauded for trying to tip it over. 

Perhaps some one will discover how to season, 
sterilize, predigest the heavenly manna, modify 
the spiritual milk, administer absent treatment for 
the disease of sin, hypnotize evil out of a man, 
extract iniquity painlessly, remove wickedness 
with all the neatness (if not the dispatch) with 
which a good surgeon cuts out your appendix, 
widen the narrow gate a trifle, and macadamize 
the straight and narrow way. 

What is there which this sprightly age cannot 
achieve? Would we travel? Ready-to-start ex- 
cursions to Jerusalem, Pyramids and Taj Mahal 
invite us. Are we musical? Ready-to-grind 
phonographs and pianolas pour forth Mozart and 
Bach by the hour. Are we fagged? A tablet or a 
toxin slays the microbe. Do we long for college 

1 



2 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

and are unable to attend an intellectual depart- 
ment store? Education by correspondence offers 
us thorough training in science, engineering and 
theology, graded to Brahman or Filipino. Do we 
long for a home? An advertisement brings a pho- 
tograph of the coy lady, and ready- to-live-in flats 
are near, fitted to meet purse and hygiene. Do 
you crave a dainty? Drop in your penny, push 
in the plunger, and munch your peanuts or chew 
your pepsin-gum. Hungry for culture, you find 
a ready-made library, less than two yards long, 
so wisely selected that a daily revel of ten minutes 
in it guarantees a cultivated mind. 

And what is this new prize-package ? A formula 
for the "Religion of the Future" the versatile 
author calls it, "without authority, individuality," 
or any of the "pagan superstitions of Christi- 
anity." There is much that is true in this essay 
of President Eliot, in which he seeks to gather 
"the tenderest and loveliest teachings that have 
come down to us from the past." It must have 
been quite a responsibility. One would shrink 
from it, fearing that he might leave out some- 
thing essential, or put in something which an 
Utopian in the year three thousand would feel the 
need of. 

Near the opening he says religion is "fluent, 
and among educated people should change from 
century to century." This is about the only ad- 
mission of a lack of confidence in his ability to 
give the final word. Toward the end that is mod- 



SPIRITUAL GYMNASTICS 3 

ified when he says that the new religion is very 
simple, "and therefore possesses an important 
element of durability. It is complicated things 
that get out of order." It surely is simple if we 
understand it. Perhaps the simplicity will make 
up for the loss of some things which have seemed 
to be of some value, such as the forgiveness of sin, 
the divine Savior, and, last, the Holy Ghost, whom 
the author classes with "a host of tutelary deities." 
The author says: "The ordinary consolations 
of institutional Christianity no longer satisfy in- 
telligent people whose lives are broken by the 
sickness or the premature death of those they 
love." We shall be ashamed to be caught reading 
the fourteenth chapter of John after this ! 

President Eliot prefers what Jesus said about 
love and the heavenly Father to His teachings 
about sin and its punishment and the justice of 
God. "The new religion will magnify and laud 
God's love and compassion, and will not venture to 
state what the justice of God may, or may not, 
require of Himself, or of any of His creatures." 
That is going to make a difference with those 
who have been taught by a "paganized Christian- 
ity" that justice is an essential element in any 
decent religion, or in anything else that appeals 
to serious minds. 

Toward the end he seems to doubt a little 
whether his religion will "prove as efficient to 
deter men from doing wrong and to encourage 
them to do right as the prevailing religions have 



4 SPIRITUAL GYMNASTICS 

been." Time will tell. He is grateful for the 
lovely things he has gathered from the out-of- 
date religions, and is sure that the "new religion 
affords an infinite scope or range for progress 
and development." It is to be regretted that "the 
great mass of the people, attached to the tradi- 
tional churches, are likely to remain so, — partly 
because of the tender associations with the 
churches at grave crises of life, and partly be- 
cause their present mental condition still permits 
them to accept beliefs they have inherited or have 
been taught while young." If we cannot make a 
clean sweep, and substitute the new for the old, 
we cannot be too thankful that the new religion 
will "modify the creeds and existing practices of 
all existing churches, and change their symbol- 
ism and their teachings concerning the conduct 
of life. It will exert a strong uniting influence 
among men." 

We are sorry that the author seems ignorant 
of many important things about historical Chris- 
tianity which good scholars could have told him, 
but we must not expect too much of one man. 
We overlook this and a number of other things 
he speaks so well of Jesus even if "they didn't 
know everything down in Judee." A sentence at 
the close calls forth our gratitude, a sentence 
which may mean a great deal: "The revelation 
He gave to mankind thus becomes more wonder- 
ful than ever." It certainly has furnished some 
valuable suggestions to the author of the "Relig- 
ion of the Future." 



SPIRITUAL GYMNASTICS 5 

This formula is the best thing of the kind we 
have seen for several weeks. We had been looking 
for a long time for a new religion, — a religion 
we could get into our system without joggling 
the nerve-cells, loss of an hour's sleep, or a meal ; 
a religion with beautiful ideas, elective, vague, 
antiseptic, chemically-pure, progressive, prag- 
matic, scholarly, optimistic, far superior to the 
worn-out religions of fear, gloom and consolation. 
It ought to have a good run. Its vagueness and 
abstractness fall in with much of the thinking of 
our time. It will prove interesting to those in- 
telligent enough to understand it who have no 
religion of their own. It may run its course like 
golfing, automobiling, bridge-whist, picture post- 
cards and Teddy-bears. Possibly it will not last 
always, this Religion of the Future; hoop-skirts, 
croquet and bicycles are out of date. One beauty 
of the formula is that it costs so little, only fifty 
cents, — not much for a new religion. We can 
save somewhere else; any family can do without 
meat for a day, or stay away from the theatre 
for once for a new religion. Still, in these days 
of high prices we must economize somewhere; 
perhaps we would better wait a little before pur- 
chasing. In six months we may be able to get 
another formula equally good for a quarter. 

This prescription is very attractive, especially 
for our times. It boasts of no back-bone of au- 
thority, so it will be easy to swallow; religion 
ought to go down like a Blue Point or a lump of 



6 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

jelly. There is a methodical, business-like air 
about it which we like. It is a little short in jus- 
tice, poetry, imagination, music, and a grasp of 
those lofty views of God which used to be re- 
garded as necessary in a life of reverential love; 
but it is long in generalities, sweet philanthropies 
and gentle idealisms. A dash of pantheism gives 
it an air of encouraging mysteriousness. 

We had not supposed that religion could be 
formulated and labelled like specimens in a mu- 
seum; that faith, hope and love could be exam- 
ined as a biologist watches the growth of a tad- 
pole's tail; that justice could be thrown out of 
court altogether; but we are never too old to 
learn. It certainly will be economical after the 
formula is paid for. Churches cost money, 
preaching comes high, quartettes are expensive. 

Under the old religion, which has done fairly 
well for eighteen centuries, marriage seemed like 
a sacrament. We heard the words of Christ at 
weddings, we asked the presence of Him who 
gave joy at the marriage at Cana to be a con- 
stant guest in the new home, and the poor super- 
stition seemed appropriate and helpful. We shall 
miss that delusion in the new religion. The jus- 
tice of peace may be as solemn as the minister, 
and the town clerk or a passing constable can 
sign as witness. 

It will not be necessary to pull down the 
churches at present. They will be useful for 
gymnasiums, pleasant afternoons, lectures, read- 



SPIRITUAL GYMNASTICS 7 

ing-rooms, under control of physical directors, 
doctors, dentists and philanthropists. 

There seems to be quite a call for new religions 
just now. One man is bored by the Te Deum 
and the repetitions in the Kyrie, and sees no real- 
ity in creeds. Others are conscious of no response 
to appeals for love and aspiration through a sac- 
rificial and ever-present Saviour. Others have 
been so busy dissecting the body of the Scrip- 
tures that the spirit has escaped. Others of ex- 
ceptional genius declare that they have a religion, 
but it is without form and comeliness and they 
shrink from exhibiting it. To all these almost 
any religion is interesting, especially if it lets 
them do as they please. 

The idea of a new religion is attractive, quiet- 
ing to the conscience, suggesting that the old one 
is defective or threadbare, and surely not indis- 
pensable. 

As these and similar thoughts were passing 
through my mind, a new idea struck me. Presi- 
dent Eliot cannot be serious; he is too wise and 
scholarly a man for that. What he means is in 
the magic words "Spiritual Gymnastics." He 
would not think for a moment that he was capa- 
ble of defining the elements of the religion of the 
future. He only expected to scare people a little, 
wake them up, so that they will exercise their 
spiritual legs. He is a shrewd man and knew his 
little essay would not do much harm. A few 
timid saints would whisper with bated breath, 



8 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

"Isn't it awful?" But the clearer-headed ones, 
who have a little logic and know something of 
history, would say as Dr. Johnson said of 
ghosts: "I do not believe in them, I have seen so 
many of them." What a load was lifted from 
our minds when the beautiful and magic phrase 
"Spiritual Gymnastics" slowly dawned! 

Blessings never come singly. Here is another 
prize ; a gifted mind, neighbor of President Eliot, 
steals a little time from the absorbing interests of 
a great city church to discuss a principle which 
has always been regarded as close to the heart of 
Christianity, — the out-flow of God's mercy in 
unusual ways of compassionate love in connection 
with redemption. 

We open the book expecting to find marks of 
thorough study, careful preparation, clear logic, 
and sound thinking. We look for luminous def- 
inition and some adequate conception of the bear- 
ings of this subject upon our comprehension of 
Christ as the supreme revelation of the Father. 
We find a lack of lucid definition, logic, and 
comprehension of the historic place of miracles 
in the Christian system. If the author has dis- 
covered ground for displacing and eliminating 
the events which the greatest thinkers of the 
Church have always regarded as supernatural, he 
fails to make them appear. 

The chase for simplicity in the end leads into a 
deeper complexity. There is a good deal of spe- 
cial pleading, a warm flow of sweetness, but more 



SPIRITUAL GYMNASTICS 9 

light on the author than on the subject in hand. 
Dr. Gordon fails to show how we can cut out mira- 
cles and have left unimpaired the New Testament 
conception of Christ and the teachings inter- 
woven with the miracles. The book is made up of 
a course of lectures delivered at Yale Divinity 
School last year on the Nathaniel W. Taylor 
foundation and is distinctly apologetic and altru- 
istic. It is not easy to tell exactly where the 
author stands, but it is possible to guess which 
way he leans. Dr. Gordon seems a little scared 
to be found in the company of such naughty 
boys as Schmiedel and Cheyne, and good boy that 
he is, he tries to swear as they do and seem almost 
as bad, but without much heart, and this is to 
his credit. 

He seeks at the outset to propitiate the shade 
of that vigorous old warhorse of the Evangelical 
faith, Dr. N. W. Taylor. We have not heard 
whether the champion of the last century ac- 
cepted the apology of the twentieth century lec- 
turer at his beloved school or not. We suspect 
that the lectures gave him a bad half -hour even 
in heaven. This reflection throws doubt on the 
notion that saints in glory are acquainted with 
the capers of us frisky mortals. 

Dr. Taylor was not unrhetorical, but he was a 
clear, logical thinker. What has become of his 
mantle ? 

Here is a sample from the book : 

" The recorded gospel, the recorded Christ, we 



10 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

leave behind as the swift years roll, as the great 
centuries pass. That divine life in Galilee and in 
Judea is far away from our time. We may weep 
that it is receding from the successive generations 
of men; but we must not forget that it is part of 
the history of the race, that it is the abiding and 
the supreme memorial, and the glorious deep of the 
Holy Ghost goes forward with us; it is under the 
keel of the ship." 

This and similar passages disturbed me a little 
at first. I was not sure what the author meant, 
though I could see that he evidently was saying 
more than a commonplace. The imagery is of an 
ocean voyage. It seemed as though he were 
throwing overboard something more substantial 
than the run-away prophet. But when the 
thought of "Spiritual Gymnastics" came, all was 
clear. Dr. Gordon thinks we are going away 
from the recorded Christ and the further we get 
the more we must throw away, that we may go 
light and make speed. The closing words of the 
passage illuminate the subject wonderfully, "The 
glorious deep of the Holy Ghost is under the 
keel of the ship." How stupid not to see at the 
first glance that Spiritual Gymnastics had taken 
to water! 

Here is a boat-race. Dr. Gordon cannot be se- 
rious, he is getting up a little gymnastic exercise 
to develop the wings or the fins of the saints that 
when they come to difficulties they may be able to 
fly over them or dive under them. Then this boat- 
ing practice is taken to that clearing-house of in- 



SPIRITUAL GYMNASTICS 11 

teresting speculations, the religious newspaper. 
A symposium is arranged by the editor, to which 
professors, ministers and an occasional layman 
contribute. They snatch a little time from their 
busy lives to explain how they feel about the sub- 
ject. All is done with due regard to the feelings 
of the honored preacher. The result is summed 
up by the editor, who then passes calmly on to 
discuss the shirtwaist strike and the future of the 
House of Lords. The result of the symposium is 
labelled and filed away in the archives with the 
results of the councils of Jerusalem, Nice, and 
Trent, hear the alcove where the works of Augus- 
tine, Calvin, Edwards, and Taylor are calmly re- 
posing. 

All this disturbs the minds of the thoughtful 
until they reflect that it is a kind of holy base-ball 
practice to wake up drowsy saints that they may 
grasp the emaciated grip-sack of their faith and 
march vigorously forward toward the gates of 
pearl, hoping that they will get there before those 
ancient portals dissolve into an iridescent dream. 

There is a certain amiable plausibleness in the 
book so far as there is any clear reasoning. We 
heartily admire the intention of the author; he 
does long to help some people who would like to 
embrace Christianity if they are not obliged to 
take too much of it. The milk of the Word is 
pretty strong if taken clear. Some of the elect, 
partly out of regard for the eloquent author, 
may be led to try to believe in a divine Savior 



12 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

who left no remarkable signs of his divinity ex- 
cept some excellent ideas of a dead man, ideas out 
of which some early and gifted followers tried 
to make a case; a sacrificial Master who perhaps 
neither died nor rose, and possibly was not born in 
a way to suit finicky minds; a reigning King 
who gave no marks of kingliness apart from the 
mythical teachings except a rather superior hu- 
manity, if we can trust the legends. And if we 
play as fast and loose with the records about that 
as has been done with the stories about the mira- 
cles, in a year or two we shall not have ground 
for faith in Christ as hardly a real and respect- 
able man. 

The fact that Jesus laid less stress on the evi- 
dence from miracles than on the proof from 
His teachings is the sheet-anchor in this swim- 
ming-tank practice, to use a nautical figure. 
This gives some slight excuse for plunging into 
the position that miracles should be left out of 
the account altogether. Since some are not con- 
vinced by the miracle-tales, no one should be an- 
tiquated enough to believe that there ever were 
any miracles. Since all are not persuaded, no 
one is. The logic halts a little, or rather flies, — 
I mean dives, — but what of that in this swift 
age! It is true a good deal of exercise is re- 
quired of congregations used to the old-fashioned 
preaching. The people have to "step lively, 
please," to keep up with the nimble parsons. 

We saw an amateur in high vaulting the other 



SPIRITUAL GYMNASTICS 13 

day; he leaped gracefully over difficulties which 
have taxed the most powerful minds and rose 
with a pleasant smile. He leaped back to the 
myth theory, which many have supposed was 
drying up in the museum of theological antiqui- 
ties, and when he was asked how the myths about 
Christ could have gathered in that keen age, he 
seemed to think the question answered when he 
said: "Myths are gathering about Abraham Lin- 
coln." Urged to give a few, he said: "I do not 
remember any now, but Lincoln could never have 
told so many funny stories." I should call that 
light dumb-bell practice. 

We are reminded of a brilliant effort in our 
town to get a bed-ridden woman, whose only dis- 
ease was chronic weariness, upon her feet. A 
board was pulled out of the floor, and a brisk fire 
of shaving was started in the cellar below. The 
woman thought the house was on fire and ran a 
mile before she stopped. 

We are looking for remarkable results in the 
spiritual life of our churches before long. There 
is much variety in this pious practice-business. 
A few years ago there was a stirring gymnastic 
exercise over second probation. Some kindly 
souls, anxious to give the heathen a chance at the 
gospel loaf, timidly, and sometimes even boldly, 
suggested that God might throw the poor 
wretches a few crumbs after death. "No, no, it 
would cut the nerve of missions. What is the 
use of spending so much money and sending out 



14 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

heroic souls if the heathen are not passing at the 
rate of (I forget how many every minute) into 
misery?" The gymnasts had it out in symposi- 
ums and wordy discussions. One part was worried 
lest the heathen fail of a chance of salvation, and 
the other lest they have one. This athletic 
tournament is about as interesting now as a last 
year's swallow's nest. 

Thirty years ago it was feared by some devout 
and timid people that prayer had received a death- 
blow when the famous prayer-guage was thrown 
at it by Prof. Tyndall. Distinguished biologists 
began to lecture on a subject for which their 
training prepared them about as well as shovel- 
ling snow prepares a man for running a locomo- 
tive. This was the plan proposed ; a certain ward 
in a hospital was to be exempted from the pray- 
ers of people who are simple enough to pray at 
all. Heartfelt petitions were to assail the upper 
regions for all the rest, but the unfortunates in 
those quarantined beds were to be exposed to the 
tender mercies of doctors and nurses, unaided by 
the elderly superstition of prayer. Thus the Al- 
mighty, if I remember aright, without being con- 
sulted, was to be put to the trial, — prayer sub- 
mitted to a scientific test almost as searching as 
any in the laboratory, and its value settled for- 
ever. 

We used to hesitate whether to wonder more at 
the irreverence or the humor of this bowling-alley 
contest, whose fatal weakness as a test is exposed 



SPIRITUAL GYMNASTICS 15 

by one question. How can we be sure that some 
humble, and perhaps illiterate saint, ignorant of 
the historic test, or saddened by the thought that 
any one should fail to be "bound by gold chains 
about the feet of God," should pray for that 
ward with the rest? 

We ought to be thankful for this variety of 
exercise offered in the Spiritual gymnasium. We 
were getting a little tired of hearing of Joshua's 
sun and Jonah's sub-marine. For several years 
the sun has gone over lonely Gibeon at his usual 
rapid gait, and the dwellers in the pleasant valley 
of Aijalon have had to be content with the same 
amount of moonshine the rest of us enj oy , though 
there has been a surplus in some quarters. Jonah 
has gone into a retirement better ventilated than 
the interior of a fish, whose juicy body is in cold- 
storage to await higher prices. 

There is one practice-feat given in a multitude 
of words with highly ingenious rhetoric, original 
and striking grammar, and daring flights of elo- 
quence, to prove that there is no such thing as 
pain except in a mind confused and darkened. 
This is a spiritual rowing-weight exercise, be- 
cause you pull forever without getting anywhere. 

There is one thing about this horizontal-bar, 
boat race, swinging-ring exercise which disturbs 
me. There are many good, honest people, more 
distinguished for piety than for a keen sense of 
humor, who will fail to find either food, consola- 
tion or gymnastics in these lively and merry prac- 



16 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

ticings. I have spoken of the agile advocates of 
spiritual swinging-rings in book, press and pul- 
pit. Readers and hearers must be equally ath- 
letic; the older saints must strain every nerve to 
get much good out of moving through the air 
with only an occasional foot upon the ground, 
and the chances are that the adolescent saints will 
not get any. 

But these things do less harm than we feared 
at first. Plain people with common sense are 
slow to leap into a swimming-tank, unless there 
appears some way of getting out. It looks 
deeper than it is. It takes time to get an idea 
into their sturdy minds, and before the latest in- 
vention has settled in, another appears, so it 
seems better to hold by the old-fashioned faith. 
It is a little homely and out of style, but we know 
whither it has led a good many people. Some of 
them think for themselves and have their opinion 
of a religion without mystery and a Savior who 
does nothing beyond the commonplace. 

People are remarkably patient with this rough 
foot-ball practice. They love their ministers and 
hope that they will soon get through these dis- 
eases of an immature mind; then it is rather in- 
teresting to watch an acrobat for a time. 

While we must admit that the motives which 
have led to the invention of Spiritual Gymnastics 
are high up in the second class and the results 
most promising for those who have nerve and 
vigor, it is rather trying for ordinary mortals 



SPIRITUAL GYMNASTICS 17 

who have been taught to believe that in a matter 
so vast and momentous as the relation of the soul 
with God, and in the conquest over an evil so fear- 
ful and corrupting as sin, they would expect to 
find profound mysteries. They do not take 
kindly to any penny-in-the-slot arrangement as 
medicine for a diseased and burdened heart. 
They love the sacraments, and the dear, familiar 
words, which tell of a holy Father revealing Him- 
self in great historic movements, of a Savior who 
came clothed with glorious power, who gave His 
life for us, rose, reigns, sends His Spirit, and 
dwells within His children. When passing 
through trials, they have been comforted as they 
have felt that the Jesus of Mary and Martha was 
their Savior. The grave has lost most of its ter- 
rors when they believe that Jesus rose from it 
triumphant. They cannot and will not believe 
that all this is gone. 

They would feel homesick in the new religion- 
flat, though hygienic, lighted by an aurora and 
piped for gas. Christ seems to them as an eter- 
nal and loving figure, reaching out His hands of 
divine sympathy and power, with forgiveness 
and infinite blessing. Christianity seems to them 
a rescue from the power of sin and restoration to 
the divine fellowship, and they prefer to take 
their exercise in a humble and obedient following 
of Jesus as so many others have done. As they 
look out on the world they see a condition of self- 
ishness and depravity which seems to them to call 



18 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

for a divine interposition, and they doubt 
whether a mild wash of sentimental idealism will 
meet the case. Some have heard the warning of 
Professor Fisher: "Look out for that old devil 
pantheism. He is always trying to steal in." 

We have yet to see the fallacy in Canon West- 
cott's position, "The resurrection is a miracle or 
an illusion. There is no alternative and no am- 
biguity." When the disciples laid the body of 
Jesus in Joseph's tomb, they had no expectation 
of seeing him alive again. Arthur slept in the 
dark shades of Avalon, Barbarossa was concealed 
in a subterraneum cavern, Don Sebastian went 
into obscure captivity, but Jesus was dead. The 
soldiers and the disciples knew that He was dead. 
His enemies dwelt more on His promise to rise 
than did His friends. Two days later the lacer- 
ated body had changed into an engine of spiritual 
power. How could the case be more clearly stated 
than in these words by James Freeman Clark? 

" The main fact that Jesus, after His death, came 
again to His disciples in visible form, and created 
a faith in immortality which transfigured their 
whole being, seems to me undeniable. Without 
some such event Christianity would have been bur- 
ied forever in the grave; the resurrection of Christ 
was the resurrection of Christianity. With all re- 
spect for those who believe that the disciples im- 
agined that they saw the Master and that this self- 
delusion was the foundation on which their religion 
was built, which converted Europe to a faith in a 
Jewish Messiah, the supposition appears to me his- 
torically incredible. The house which is to stand 



SPIRITUAL GYMNASTICS 19 

must be founded on the rock of reality, not on the 
sand of delusion." 

Sin is historical ; it must be met by a historical 
remedy. Dreamers may enjoy revelling in ab- 
stractions, but the great Christian thinkers of 
the past and the multitudes who have found 
Christ real, have believed that the human soul, 
burdened, perplexed, tortured, filled with remorse, 
needs more than vague phrases of a pantheistic 
ethical idealism. Sin is concrete, aggressive, ter- 
rific. Redemption must be concrete, positive, di- 
vine. 

The periods of greatest spiritual power in the 
past have been the times when men faced the prob- 
lems of life with an absolute faith in Jesus Christ 
as the Savior of the world whom God sent to 
teach, to die, to rise, to reign, to bestow His 
Spirit, to come again. 

Either Christianity is a supernatural religion 
or it is nothing which commands our respect. 
The supernatural is not a subordinate theme in 
God's great work of saving sinful men. Believ- 
ing in Christ as the power of God unto salvation, 
we find Him a brotherly Savior and a Master 
clothed with all power in heaven and earth. 

Despite here and there one who drifting upon 
the sands of pantheism, thinks of Christianity as 
little better than an ethical idealism, the great 
body of believers has confessed with St. Ambrose 
for a thousand years, saying, "Thou art the 
King of glory, O Christ. Thou art the ever- 



20 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

lasting Son of the Father. When Thou tookest 
upon Thee to deliver man Thou didst not abhor 
the Virgin's womb. When Thou hadst overcome 
the sharpness of death, Thou didst open the king- 
dom of heaven to all believers. Thou sit test at 
the right hand of God in the glory of the Father." 



II 

THE PARSON IN HIS GARDEN 

If there is any time when the country parson 
is most sorely tempted to indulge in worldly pride 
and to look down in pity upon his less fortunate 
though more famous city brothers, it is when he 
goes out into his garden. 

Hope, joy and triumph attend him through the 
long season. He has the land ploughed early, 
to form a mulch which shall help retain the mois- 
ture, and after plough and harrow have done 
their work he places tenderly in the mellow soil 
the seeds which by a kind of miracle are to enable 
him a few months later to go out morning by 
morning and pluck from the tree of life, which 
bears twelve manner of fruits, a dozen ears of 
sweet, tender corn, a mess of peas or beans, a bas- 
ket of tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce, beets, rad- 
ishes. The foraging is not complete without a 
visit to the strawberry bed, which he is careful 
to renew every spring, or the row of raspberries, 
or the blackberry corner. 

A peculiar interest gathers about every part of 
the parson's life in the garden as everywhere else. 
If he digs a hill of potatoes there is a mystery 
about it; he wonders whether the tubers will be 
large or small, many or few; if he is the right 
kind of a man he expects a fine yield from every 

21 



22 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

hill, and he is thankful if he gets any ; but in any 
case he has something of the excitement of the 
broker who watches tremulously the rise or fall 
of stocks, without the risk. Then when he calls 
upon the hens, there is a wholesome feeling of ex- 
pectancy to see whether their songs mean that 
they have laid or lied. 

From ancient days the country minister has 
been noted for his skill with the hoe. Some early 
theologians of New England wrote up in winter 
twenty or thirty sermons ahead that the cruise of 
oil might not fail or the barrel be empty in the 
sultry months of July and August. One of these 
provident souls made a mistake, a rare thing for 
a minister, and died in April, and among his as- 
sets was a firkin of unpreached sermons. Ser- 
mons in those days were evidently prepared as 
ship-builders in Maine were formerly said to build 
ships, — by the mile, and cut off as needed. Some 
of those early parsons were very skilful in fret- 
ting the soil until it brought forth lavishly. One 
of them persuaded his apple trees to yield so 
much fruit that he sold two hundred dollars' 
worth. "But do not tell my people," he whis- 
pered, "they may lower my salary." 

It is reported of one jovial parson that on the 
Sunday following the rolling of thirty barrels of 
cider into the cellar, he invited his people to come 
and share the bounty, in these words in his 
prayer : "We thank thee, O Lord, for all the good 
cider vouchsafed to us." 



THE PARSON IN HIS GARDEN 23 

Two farmers from different parishes were once 
discussing their pastors. One said, "Wall, our 
minister is a nice man, and in winter time his ser- 
mons are pretty good, but he works so hard on 
his farm that he gives pretty poor fodder in 
plantin' and hoein' time, but in caterpillar time 
he is mighty movin' in prayer." 

Some of the ancient parsons were remarkably 
thrifty with cows, hens and bees, and the tradition 
is that it was not easy to outwit them in a horse 
trade. It was on the farm that their boys were 
taught to curb their coltish fury, and if they 
knew nothing of the swift baseball, and were not 
trained to tumble in a heap upon the fascinating 
pigskin, they could toss potatoes, turnips and 
cabbages, or catch a shower of cream and cheese 
as they followed the milky way. 

The Connecticut Valley has long been cele- 
brated for the cultivation of a fragrant delicacy, 
and long before the fertile acres of intervale were 
given up to tobacco, the onion was raised in large 
quantities. 

My first venture with this vegetable was after 
this wise: Calling on a parishioner one autumn 
day I found him in the perfumed presence of a 
fine array of Wethersfield Reds. We fell to dis- 
cussing the pleasures, trials and profits of this 
famous crop, these smooth, silky, glistening 
globes of pungent brainf ood. My farmer-friend, 
with a cheerful optimism and perhaps a desire to 
see his pastor more often on his knees, encouraged 
me to a new enterprise. 



24 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

As we talked, the Reds at our feet turned up 
their beaming faces and said through their 
smiles, "Was there ever anything more winsome? 
Tickle the sacred soil of the parsonage lot, drop 
in a few seeds, and our children will greet you 
with a song." My heart was touched, my ambi- 
tion fired; I determined to join the illustrious pro- 
cession which for years has wrestled with wire- 
grass and pigweed in the onion-beds. 

If, through the short-comings of my predeces- 
sors, I could not fill the cellar with cider, I might 
perhaps cause my modest field to be like a tree 
planted by the streams of water. I knew that I 
should succeed only by the sweat of my brow, but 
I knew that the "trees of the Lord are full of 
sap." I was encouraged also by my next neigh- 
bor, who had left the excitements of his farm 
down river and had moved into the house next to 
the parsonage, knowing, in his philosophic mind, 
that it would be a good place in which to grow 
in grace, ripen for heaven, and raise a few onions. 

This kind neighbor, whose temper nothing but 
pusley could ruffle, said many times in the early 
stages of the growth that he did not think that 
the onions would amount to much, though he ad- 
mitted that he had raised onions for years and 
never failed of a crop, but this year they looked 
sad and discouraged. I turned away to conceal a 
smile, for had I not heard such dismal lamenta- 
tions on my ancestral farm? When a small boy, 
and unfamiliar with a beautiful New England 



THE PARSON IN HIS GARDEN 25 

trait, visions of the poorhouse would rise before 
my childish mind as, from early spring on through 
several months I heard the farmers say that if the 
rain did not cease, or the clouds continued eco- 
nomical, there would be little grass, small pota- 
toes or meager corn. 

I have not told you of another reason for rais- 
ing onions, — the virtuous desire to encourage a 
young relative who had set his heart on a rifle. 
In my inexperience I thought that weeding the 
succulent bulbs would help him financially, and I 
fondly but vainly hoped that in the process he 
would acquire a more humble spirit. After the 
plough had turned in some highly perfumed com- 
post and a few bales of tobacco stems, my one in- 
dulgence with the weed, and harrow and rake had 
levelled the surface of the brown loam, some more 
concentrated plant-food was scattered upon the 
land, and then the little black seeds were put to 
sleep in their soft and pleasant bed. I went into 
the house to prepare a sermon on the text, "In 
your patience ye shall win your souls." 

Two weeks went by and nothing like an onion 
appeared. One man said he had seen onions 
growing on that land some fifty years before, but 
had the long vacation destroyed the ancient vir- 
tue? Had the onion goddess been chloroformed 
by the parsons as they paced the field, lamenting 
the placidness of slumbering professors, or train- 
ing their pious minds for the task similar to that 
of Kipling's drill-master, "But 'e works 'm, 



26 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

works 'em, works 'em, till 'e feels 'm take the bit." 
The long sunny days and shady nights went 
by, and at length one morning, ornamented with 
jewels, in air sweet as the ambrosia of Olympus, 
there appeared a shaft of green, not as tall as 
the Washington monument but quite as interest- 
ing to me just then as I reflected that it was in 
the midst of the Wethersfield onion beds that the 
Father of his country, Rochambeau and the rest 
gathered mental stimulus and courage from Con- 
necticut River shad and Wethersfield Reds to ar- 
range in our famous Webb House for the cam- 
paign which resulted in Yorktown. Was it pos- 
sible that the little green spear was an onion? I 
leaned over and inhaled the odor, more delicate 
than the perfume of Araby the blest. O happy 
moment! O passion of hope fulfilled! Seldom 
since the morning stars gave their primeval sere- 
nade has such pleasure been awakened as was then 
mine. As a fond mother sees a Lincoln or a Nogi 
in the cradle, so I saw the benevolent countenance 
of a delicious onion shining up at me from that 
little thread. 

Then came the days of weeding. My cheerful 
friend who started me on this mad career, with a 
countenance as bland and benevolent as Frank- 
lin's, had advised me to rake the ground over at 
an early stage and thus escape all weedings but 
one. I watched for that psychological moment 
for weeks, but it escaped me. Perhaps that plan 
will not work in soil in which successive genera- 



THE PARSON IN HIS GARDEN 27 

tions of parsons' sons have sown their wild oats. 

Mondays, the prophets' holidays, were my fa- 
vorite time for agricultural strenuosity. About 
four in the morning, as soon as I could distin- 
guish onions from wiregrass, my work began. 
The robins were singing their morning anthems, 
the merry milk-wagons went rattling by, — the 
apple trees filled the air with beauty and fra- 
grance, and cheered by a good conscience I went 
on my humble and virtuous way. 

After a time I found the onions a little thin. 
My bump of thrift, always abnormal, towered 
like lonely Nebo, and after drinking at a foun- 
tain of wisdom in the neighborhood, I set out 
some youthful pepper plants among the onions 
and in every fourth row some celery. 

" The slow sweet hours that bring us all things 
good, 
The slow sad hours that bring us all things ill, 
And all good things from evil " 

brought the harvest-day. 

The onions were pulled and stripped, and over 
sixty bushels lay beaming upon the ground. 

And the peppers ! One day in September I 
went out like Isaac to muse at eventide, and saw 
a charming scarlet globe among the green leaves. 
I found scores of green balls of stinging beauty 
hanging in clusters. Twelve bushels were gath- 
ered in one day, and unwilling to spoil the beau- 
tiful dispositions of the dwellers in the parson- 
age with too much pepper, I sold them. When 



28 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

the money came in, the humble feeder on locusts 
and wild honey was almost overpowered. More 
peppers came in later, and early in November, the 
celery was put into pits to bleach and to cheer 
with its crispy sweetness through the long win- 
ter until in April the plough should open the soil 
for another crop. 

The secret of raising celery is to have the soil 
rich enough to force the growth, and the process 
of pitting it is easy; a trench, the width of a 
spade and deep enough to take in the plants, is 
covered with a roof made in sections two feet long 
of boards a foot wide nailed together at right 
angles ; when the weather grows cool and the 
Thanksgiving turkey ceases its cheerful gobble 
forever, a covering of hay or leaves preserves the 
tender stems, which furnish a delicious combina- 
tion of vegetable and confectionery. 

The rest of the garden did its part ; about the 
twentieth of April, as soon as the land was 
ploughed, I put in peas, Crosby and Cory corn, 
wax, horticultural and lima beans besides the 
smaller seeds, and every two weeks until the mid- 
dle of July, about forty hills of corn. Some find 
it hard to woo the timid lima from the soil, and 
the seed receives all sorts of treatment, but when 
the beans are flung into the freshly ploughed soil, 
the tonic moisture soon sends forth the tender 
plant. 

Fifteen bushels of yellow corn were gathered, 
and it all went down the orange throats of the 



THE PARSON IN HIS GARDEN 29 

Rhode Island Reds to be changed into delicate 
eggs and flesh. Some of it was transformed into 
wish-bones which brought good luck to us all. 
And the pop-corn — five bushels — hung in colonies 
on the stalks. Two months after husking we be- 
gan to pop it, and chilly is the day which passes 
without a pan of its snowy, tender and fragrant 
crackle. 

Before I bring this agricultural chapter to a 
close, let me, after the manner of the papers, give 
a few timely hints. One is as to the value of fre- 
quent hoeing. It kills the weeds, forms a dust 
mulch which protects against drought and is 
worth more than a handful of phosphate to a hill 
of beans. When I was a boy I used to wonder 
why weeds were allowed by an all-wise Providence 
to prosper, and in my childish philosophy, I 
thought that some spirit of evil must have a hand 
in the game. I now see that I was in the wrong, 
for I have learned that we lazy people would not 
stir the soil sufficiently were it not for the inva- 
sion of this skilful and persistent army, and that 
weeds are really blessings upside down. Some of 
them are homely enough to be enemies. How 
hideous the smile of the faithful pusley, which 
crawls in every direction upon its greasy paws ! 
What a leer in the eye of the cunning snake-grass 
wriggling along in its swift way. Be not angry^ 
with these humble companions. Arise while the 
shadows still linger in the valleys, go down upon 
thy knees, and the wilderness and solitary place 
shall be glad. 



30 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

You have heard of the ancient proverb, "Go 
to the ant, thou sluggard, consider her ways and 
be wise." The modern proverb bids us go to the 
onion for knowledge and to the tomato for in- 
struction. Study the microbes' airy flight; fill 
the soil with nitrogen; scatter lime, copper, arse- 
nic and salt; so shall thy potatoes break into a 
mealy smile, thy cucumbers shall cease to torment 
thee, and thy potato bugs shall go to Jericho. 
Inoculate thy soil with bacilli ; harass the ground 
with the tireless hoe ; so shall thy corn pop like the 
bombs at Port Arthur, and thy celery shall pour 
forth its fragrant brain-food. Feed thy hens 
with balanced rations, and if they feel well-dis- 
posed, they will sing their cheerful lay. 

The end of the whole matter is this: When 
food-prices soar to the height of Hermon, when 
cold-storage plants are swollen with eggs and 
meat, the country parson smileth at Satan's rage 
and in calm contentment faces a frowning world. 



Ill 

THE WEATHER 

Of all the conditions that surround us, no other 
is more talked about, praised, blamed, abused, en- 
joyed, cursed, than the weather. This is not 
strange, for it stands open to the wise and the 
foolish. No intellect is too weak, no observation 
too superficial, to criticise it. It is always with 
us. It is up before we rise, attends us through 
the hours, be they swift or slow, freezing or sul- 
try ; it watches while we sleep. Nothing else opens 
so many conversations, interrupts so many plans, 
aids so many enterprises, and offers such oppor- 
tunity for patience and self-control. 

Rufus Choate used to say that in New England 
there is not a month in the year in which a man 
is not liable to be struck by lightning, his hired 
man sun-struck, and his crop bitten by the frost. 
Stern winter, heavy storms, rapid changes, 
temper and discipline the soul to a forethought 
and courage unknown in the tropics. It is strange 
that minds, usually sensible, should be so often 
unbalanced in treatment of the weather. There 
are people who almost lose their Christian hope 
in a high wind; while a protracted storm is as a 
scarlet rag flaunted before an angry bull, stirring 
them up to mutiny and rage. Yet in a zone like 
ours, amid such currents and delicate cloud-bal- 

31 



32 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

ancings, we must expect rapid changes in the 
weather. 

Most of us prefer New England to New Zeal- 
and, though we might there sleep on a mat under 
the moon, and get our breakfast from a wild date- 
tree. What a wealth of nature is disclosed by 
the changes in the weather! What sunrises, if 
we are fortunate enough to see them! Beautiful 
as the gates of Paradise are some of the displays 
in the eastern sky on mornings in June. It is 
true that he who rises early enough to see them 
exposes himself to the gibe of John Stuart Mill, 
who said he had always noticed that the early riser 
was conceited all the forenoon, stupid in the af- 
ternoon and intolerable in the evening; but one 
prefers to expose himself to such dire conse- 
quences rather than lose such radiance. 

Festus is more to the parson's mind when he 
says, 

" I am an early riser and love to hail 
The dreamy struggle of the stars with dawn, 
And kiss the foot of morning as she walks 
In dreamy light along the odorous hills." 

There was a time when our farmers imagined 
that the moon had a good deal to do with the 
weather. That notion is now obsolete. The opin- 
ion of eminent astronomers that the Czar of Rus- 
sia has about as much to do with the changes in 
the weather as the moon, has sifted into most 
minds ; but the notion that the weather is arranged 
by some equally irresponsible agency, called 



THE WEATHER 33 

"Providence," lingers here and there. An Eng- 
lish minister was calling on a parishioner whose 
farming was attended by all sorts of disasters, 
and when the spiritual adviser sought to steady 
the poor fellow's nerves by suggesting that Provi- 
dence was responsible, the discouraged man broke 
out thus: "Providence, Providence, I hate Provi- 
dence. But there is One above Who will make it 
all right sometime." 

Perhaps we should get on more calmly if our 
ideas were less confused on this subject. The 
weather often is trying, its uncertainty perplex- 
ing, its draughts or down-pours, its variety or 
sameness, baffle our minds, rack our nerves, and 
set at naught our plans. One man rejoices in a 
mild December, which carries Indian Summer on 
until Christmas bells begin to ring; his thin coat 
is still sufficient, his coal bin almost full. An- 
other longs for skating; another laments the 
heavy goods unsold. 

Formerly the weather furnished an inviting 
field for achievement for the faith of the saints. 
It was proper, but risky, for the minister to pray 
in the pulpit for atmospheric changes, not be- 
cause there was much doubt as to the efficiency of 
such prayers, but because the changes in the 
weather thus secured might not be satisfactory to 
all of the people. 

Early in the last century two processions of 
peasants climbed to the top of Peter's Berg, one 
composed of vine-dressers who wished to return 



34 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

thanks for sunshine and to pray for its continu- 
ance ; the other was from a corn district, longing 
for the drought to cease. Each was eager to get 
possession of the shrine of St. Peters' Chapel be- 
fore the other, to secure the good saint's offices. 
They came to blows with fists and sticks, much to 
the amusement of the Protestant heretics in Bonn. 

The summer of I860 was a wet one in England. 
Rain fell almost incessantly for three months ; 
farmers were in distress, and the clergy began to 
use the prayer against rain. The cholera had 
long been threatening England, and the rain, 
which people in their ignorance feared would 
bring disaster, was exactly what was needed to 
produce conditions of health. It cleansed the 
drains, swept away the refuse and gave the poor 
an abundance of sweet, clean water. It was a no- 
table fact that while the people were crying out 
against rain and the parsons were praying for a 
stay in the downpour, doctors, druggists and 
nurses had very little to do. 

There is a story of a London boy, who when 
the family was praying for clear weather for the 
annual excursion, protested that it was not right 
to do so, as some farmers around the city might 
be in need of moisture. "How shall we pray?" they 
asked. And this youthful theologian replied, 
"Ask that we may have wisdom to select one of 
God's fine days." 

How brilliant the ingenuity which finds fault 
with the weather ! "What a succession of beauti- 



THE WEATHER 35 

f ul days we are having," a minister remarked to a 
parishioner. "Yes. So many they are getting 
monotonous," was the reply. "How mild and 
pleasant these January days." "Yes, but we 
shall have to pay for them next June when our 
crops are frosted." "Pleasant, but unseason- 
able" is another stroke of genius. How many fail 
to gather the full glory of a day because it is re- 
garded as a weather-breeder! How the parson 
hates that word ! 

A few reflections should help us to wisdom and 
peace in our treatment of this perplexing subject. 
One is to give the Author the benefit of the doubt 
and consider Him innocent until He is proved 
guilty ; to remember that He may be as wise and 
considerate as we are. We cannot sharply criti- 
cize Him or His weather without irreverence. 
There are many places on the planet where those 
who dislike sudden changes can And steady 
warmth or cold. An intellect that complains of 
the weather may be of the wholesale grade, but 
it is doing retail business. The saint may be emi- 
nent in many graces, but the oil of his anointing 
is scanty when he descends from the peaks of 
heavenliness to scold about a drizzly day. Any 
weather is better than we deserve. The task of 
constructing a world with weather pleasing to 
everybody would baffle even our minds. Rarely is 
subtle egotism absent from the mind that pre- 
sumes to judge the Almighty for weather which 
does not meet our ideas. 



36 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

Another reflection is that trying weather is 
ample field for the development of character. 
What prodigies of holiness we would be if we 
could have everything to our mind ! How endur- 
ing our patience if it were never tried! How se- 
rene our steadfastness if no head-winds ever ruf- 
fled our calmness. Our testing is less conspicuous 
than that of the early Christians, but quite as 
thorough. The insidious temptation to murmur 
about the weather assails as shrewdly as did the 
curling flames in those fierce days. It is well to 
remember that no other day has been just like this 
day since the world began, and that it is a swift 
gift of God sent us as an arena for achievement. 
Every day brings its treasure. It says, "Here I 
come, a gift from heaven." If the casket be 
leaden, the jewel within is richer for him who has 
the skill to turn the key. How seldom do we get 
the full benefit of a day ! How seldom do we think 
of it as bringing us opportunities for service, self- 
denial, calmness and hope. Who does not look 
back on past days with keen regret because he did 
not appreciate what they brought, opportunities 
to be cheerful, high-minded, gentle ; to restrain the 
biting word, smother the scorching taunt, lift the 
discouraged, strengthen the weak. Cling to the 
sunny side of doubt. The present has its shad- 
owed hours and wearisome cares, but from coming 
years we may look back upon these days as 
among the happiest and best in our lives. What 
would we not give if we could bring back days in 



THE WEATHER 37 

which we gave pain instead of joy, and failed to 
meet the call for courage and patience! 

We seldom know how well off we are. We do 
not live today in the fulness of its beauty. The 
future with its grim forebodings, the past with 
its dismal regrets, are ever encroaching on this 
fleet day and robbing it of its charm. Emerson 
was never wiser than when he said : 

"'Write it on your heart that every day is the best 
day in the year. No man has learned anything 
rightly until he knows that every day is doom's day. 
To-day is a king in disguise. To-day always looks 
mean to the thoughtless in face of the uniform ex- 
perience that all good, great, and happy actions are 
made up precisely of these blank to-days. Let us 
not be deceived. Let us unmask the king as he 
passes." 

As I write, the zero weather calls forth many a 
wail, but the peach-growers rejoice, for it is just 
the thing to check premature growth and ensure 
a fine crop. Every day is a gift of God, a tele- 
scope to see heaven by. 

Stanley said he did not fear lions in the Afri- 
can wilds, but he did fear the giggers, which bur- 
rowed beneath the nails and laid some of his best 
servants under the sod. 

This is the receipt for a fine day almost four 
hundred times in a year : Equal parts of courage, 
kindness and patience, preserved in a crystal vial 
of purity, taken every morning before breakfast 
whether the sun shines or the clouds frown. 



IV 
THE GOOD OLD TIMES 

No one else hears more about the good old times 
than does the country parson. Kind, elderly 
friends gently remind him of days when the 
church was crowded to the doors, when the prayer 
room was thronged with the old guard and new 
recruits, when family worship flourished in every 
home, when the Sabbath was observed with Puri- 
tan strictness, and children were nourished on 
Bible and catechism. The parson is tempted to 
say, "A living dog is better than a dead lion," but 
he refrains. These dear souls enjoy so keenly this 
fascinating retrospect which grows brighter with 
every passing year, that he shrinks from chilling 
the flowers of wonder and praise by whispering 
that a clearer knowledge scatters many a delusion, 
and admiration for the good old times is a symp- 
tom of advancing years. 

For milleniums people have been sighing for 
the good old times. The earliest records of Egypt 
in manuscript form that have come down to us 
tell the same story. The Prisse papyrus, some- 
times spoken of as the oldest book in the world, 
dating probably before the building of the Pyra- 
mids, contains a wail over the passing of the good 
old times. The civilization of Egypt was then 
regarded as past its prime. Men were tiring of 

38 



THE GOOD OLD TIMES 39 

the degenerate epoch in which they lived, and were 
looking back to the good old days when, as it 
seemed to them, the Egyptians were a great peo- 
ple. It is a curious irony of fate that it should 
have preserved a lament heard in every century 
since that distant time, for a German scholar ex- 
amined many writers in the centuries running back 
twenty-five hundred years, and he found the com- 
plaint over the passing of the good old times scat- 
tered all along the way. 

I take from my bookcase a volume of sermons by 
Nathaniel Emmons, and I find that on Fast Day, 
April 2, 1823, he preached of "The Departure of 
a People from God." I quote the following: 

" Do people in general practice that strict family 
government and devout family religion which were 
once generally practiced in this country? All pro- 
fessors of religion and many others once brought 
up their children in the nurture and admonition of 
the Lord. They taught them to read the Bible, to 
call upon God in secret, and to remember their Cre- 
ator in the days of their youth. They gave them re- 
ligious instruction, and restrained them from every 
species of licentiousness. But how few parents and 
heads of families now daily call their children and 
households together to hear the word of God and 
join in social worship! 

" They have slidden back by a perpetual and in- 
creasing backsliding in respect to family govern- 
ment and family religion. If we may judge of 
other places by this, these primary duties, which he 
at the foundation of all virtue and piety, have be- 
come almost extinct. The Sabbath was once gen- 
erally sanctified in this country, and scarcely one 



40 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

open Sabbath-breaker was to be seen; what road 
can you now find entirely free from travellers, visi- 
tors and men of business? They treat the Sabbath 
as a common day, in defiance of all the laws of 
God and man. Though there are many individual 
Christians who constantly and devoutly attend pub- 
lic worship, yet what multitudes everywhere are sel- 
dom or never seen in the house of God. They spend 
the day in slumbering or idleness, or in secular busi- 
ness or vain amusements. This is the case in town 
and country through the United States, and is an 
awful backsliding from the pure practice of our 
forefathers. 

" The time was when no one could be found here, 
that called in question the inspiration of the Scrip- 
tures, or the precious truths and doctrines of the 
Bible. But how many now deny the inspiration and 
divine authority of the Bible, and disbelieve and 
discard the great and precious truths of the Gospel, 
and use every effort to diffuse errors and the most 
corrupt and fatal sentiments through the land! 
And how many, not only in the higher, but lower 
ranks of the people, are driven away by the pres- 
ent flood of error and infidelity! 

" It is in the memory of some now living, when 
cursing and swearing and every species of profane 
and impure language were nowhere to be heard, but 
how has profaneness now spread everywhere among 
young and old, high and low! 

" Prodigality is spreading rapidly through the 
country, checking the wealth, peace and prosperity 
of the nation. Look no further back than fifty 
years and you will be astonished at the rapid in- 
crease of prodigality among rich and poor, high and 
low. The swearer, the Sabbath-breaker, the tip- 
pler, the worldling, the scoffer, the infidel laugh at 
the shaking of the spear." 



THE GOOD OLD TIMES 41 

We go back one hundred years further and find 
Jonathan Edwards saying: 

"Just after my grandfather's death (1729) it 
seemed to be a time of extraordinary dulness in re- 
ligion. Licentiousness for some years greatly pre- 
vailed among the youth of the town; they were 
many of them very much addicted to night-walking 
and frequenting the tavern and lewd practices, 
wherein some by their example exceedingly contami- 
nated others. 

" It was their manner very frequently to get to- 
gether in conventions of both sexes for mirth and 
jollity, which they call frolics, and they would 
spend the greater part of the night in them. 

" And indeed family government did too much 
fail in town. It was become very customary with 
many of our young people to be indecent in their 
carriage at meeting. There had also long prevailed 
in town a spirit of contention between two parties, 
into which they had for many years been divided." 

Contentions seem to have been a large field for 
diversion in those prosy days, and no more invit- 
ing occasion could be found than in the building 
of a meeting-house. In 1779 the first action 
toward building a new church in the town of 
Newington was taken. It was 1798 before the 
structure was completed ; most of the time was oc- 
cupied in controversy over the site. 

In another Connecticut town, fourteen years 
were occupied in struggles over the location, and 
so acute was the contest that a brother rose in a 
church meeting and moved that the further cele- 
bration of the Lord's Supper be deferred until 
after the quarrels over the meeting house had 



42 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

ended. In May, 1712, Rev. Timothy Edwards, 
father of Jonathan, preached on a condition of 
irreligion which impelled the ministers of Wind- 
sor, Hartford and Farmington unitedly to pro- 
test against "irreverence in the worship of God, 
the profanation of His glorious name by ceaseless 
imprecations and false swearing." In 1730, Rev. 
William Russell of Middletown said in a sermon: 
"Vanity, worldliness, injustice, griping usury, 
law-courts, a readiness to take one another by the 
throat, prevail. In 1714 Samuel Whitman of 
Farmington complained that "religion was on the 
wane; its ordinances degenerated; pride in ap- 
parel, and haughtiness rampant; the errand of 
the fathers forgotten." 

So the dreary story drags along. The "Half- 
way Covenant," which was introduced 1657- 
1662, was laying its spiritual paralysis upon 
the churches, and intemperance, lying, slan- 
der, bundling, licentiousness, and quarrelling were 
common. Here is a description of New Haven 
when President Dwight was manfully and success- 
fully leading the sons of Eli into a new era of 
faith at the opening of the nineteenth century: 

" Darkness seemed to cover the church. The 
means of grace were little valued, public peace was 
broken by disorderly and riotous conduct. Our 
midnight slumbers were disturbed by obscene songs 
and drunken revels. The laws were trampled on 
with seeming impunity. Magistrates were defied 
and abashed. The holy Sabbath was violated pal- 
pably and openly. So hardened, so bold, so daring 



THE GOOD OLD TIMES 43 

were the sons of Belial, that the most solemn scenes 
were exhibited in mockery, and the darkest symp- 
tom of all was that the disciples of Jesus were all 
this while asleep." 

In those days, days before Carrie Nation 
brought us parsons to our senses and our duty, 
one godly minister would raise rye, another con- 
vert it into rum, and all the ministers in the neigh- 
borhood drink it together. 

The revivals of a century ago are often re- 
ferred to as far deeper, more powerful and ef- 
fective than the musical and organized campaigns 
of the present. One cannot read the accounts 
which have come down without being impressed 
with the depth of feeling awakened by stern, pen- 
etrating sermons. Some were terrified by fear of 
going to hell ; others softened and grieved as they 
felt that they were sinning against infinite good- 
ness. Some could not tell what was the matter 
with them, yet were filled with alarm. Some feared 
God would not receive them if they went to Him. 
Some feared they had committed the unpardon- 
able sin, they had so often grieved the Spirit. 
Conviction was with some moderate and quiet; 
with others unspeakably sharp, pungent and dis- 
tressing. 

Months were supposed to be needed for a thor- 
ough case of conversion. Prof. Samuel Harris 
used to tell us that in his early life six weeks were 
needed for a healthy conversion, and that his 
mother said that in her early days three months 



44 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

were required. Prof. Fisher used to tell a story 
of a student in college who was asked how he was 
getting along in conversion. "Pretty well, thank 
you. I hate God now," he said. 

Here is the case of a Farmington man, thirty 
years old, a respected, intelligent, praying man 
with a formal type of religion. In February, 1799 
he was convicted of sin ; weeks passed amid tears, 
self-examination, and horror at the depth of his 
wickedness. Early in April he could eat and 
sleep but little. For two months he slept no more 
than an hour a night ; in some instances he spent 
the whole night without sleep and in great agony. 
He could no longer work, and went to a physi- 
cian. He could not attend church; thought he 
did not love his friends. He would gladly have 
given ten thousand worlds to be deprived of his 
reason. His conscience so stung him that he 
would gladly have been changed into the vilest 
reptile, or held his feet in flames. This continued 
till late in September, when he began to enter- 
tain some hope that he was reconciled to God, and 
at length a sermon from the text, "My grace is 
sufficient for thee," gave him comfort and peace, 
so that at times thereafter he had a faltering hope 
that he was saved. 

A man in Durham was supposed to be a Chris- 
tian, but one night a dream startled him. His 
distress was so great that he said that to hold his 
finger in the flame of a candle and let it burn off 
would be less than what he suffered. For a long 



THE GOOD OLD TIMES 45 

time he was in despair, until one day he went into 
a field with little expectation of ever returning. 
He thought that he would soon be plunged into 
eternal woe, when suddenly he seemed to feel a 
stroke in the back ; his distress left him. He saw 
a bunch of flowers which seemed to him beautiful 
beyond expression, and on returning home his 
friends saw the change had come. 

It is clear that we have moved a long distance 
from those days, and we are glad of it, however 
superficial our religious experiences may now 
seem. Perhaps the world is none the worse for 
the fact that stern men a century ago laid hold of 
the Eternal with a violence which sometimes 
seemed to do violence to the throne, and fearlessly 
hurled the rocks of Sinai at sinful men to drive 
them toward Calvary. 

Perhaps we do need a little more of the serious- 
ness of the former days, even if the people were a 
good deal more interested in getting out of hell 
and into heaven than they were in carrying the 
Gospel to the heathen world; but when we hear 
eulogies on the "good old times," let us be at least 
intelligent. 



THE CHRISTIANITY NEEDED TODAY 

The gravity of the changes now taking place 
in our religious thought and experience demands 
that we look the situation in the face, and dis- 
cover, if possible, what is needed to meet it. 

Our consideration of the timely and important 
subject to be discussed in this chapter will lead 
us in two lines: first, the conditions which now 
prevail in the religious world; second, the Chris- 
tianity which the times require. 

I. The "today" of our topic opens a wide 
and fascinating field. Some call it an age of 
doubt, others the transition to a new period of 
spiritual power. It is a questioning age. Every- 
thing is scrutinized. It is not an age of indif- 
ference, but of ethical earnestness, and, while 
nature has a predominant appeal, and science 
lords it over us, morals and religion, especially 
in their social aspects, win eager thought. The 
personality of God, the Trinity, the person of 
Christ, are more alive than thirty years ago 
in the thought of the world. Religion is 
being studied scientifically. The claims of Christ 
are being faced fairly and intelligently. Think 
of the lives of Christ, the apologetics, the studies 
in the philosophy of religion and comparative 
religion that have been published during the past 

46 



THE CHRISTIANITY NEEDED 47 

sixty-five years! The age is commercial, indus- 
trial, inventive, humane, headlong for reality, 
eager for truth. It is a practical age, which 
challenges all comers with the question, "What 
is the use?" Reverence for old creeds and reli- 
gious forms has largely disappeared. It is an 
age of the "Priesthood of the People." Even 
Westcott says of the Thirty-nine Articles, "I 
object to them altogether." Nothing is received 
on authority. The minds of many are swept and 
garnished. We are reminded of a wide expanse 
of sand left bare by the retreating tide. Here 
is a little pool in which a few unfortunate fish 
are gasping. There is an empty peach-basket, 
an orange-crate, or an old coat, cast overboard 
by swift ships, now far beyond the horizon. The 
low, sullen wash of the departing tide, the dreary 
expanse, discourage us. Look! onward sweeps 
the ocean towards us — mighty and triumphant 
rushes in the main. 

The age is weak in spiritual achievements, as 
is every questioning age. A warrior does not 
strike hard while uncertain about his footing, 
polishing his hilt, or whetting his sword. Paltry 
results attend the great organized churches, 
though reinforced by the promised Spirit and 
the Saviour's intercession. Look into the life of 
the average Christian. How little peace, con- 
tentment, joy, and hope are there! How slight 
his hold upon the power of intercession! How 
restless, easily startled and alarmed he is! How 



48 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

painful and constant his consciousness of duties 
unfulfilled! How weak the temperament of 
prayer! How vivid the display of spiritual 
poverty! How evident the lack of sorrow for 
sin and repentance therefor! Think of our mis- 
sionary enterprises, which struggle to meet the 
needs of the widening fields, whitening into a 
dazzling radiance of invitation. Hear the cry 
of discouraged pastors over unfilled pews, and 
loneliness in the prayer-room. Is the reason for 
so scant an expression of spiritual life due to 
mental sloth, soul-poverty, or because we have 
passed to a stage beyond that implied in the 
Saviour's promise to the two or three gathered in 
His name? We are met on every side by the 
question, "Why do not young men go to 
church?" Is it because the pulpit is playing Rip 
van Winkle, or because it is unwilling to give 
a wash like that of the Sunday paper, spicy an- 
ecdotes, a tang of scandal, a sparkling discus- 
sion of the times, the fruit of the camera? Why 
the melancholy dirge: 

" In the world's broad field of battle, 
In the bivouac of life, 
You shall see the Christian soldier 
Represented by his wife." 

A Baptist minister in a large New England 
city calls crowds together by lecturing Sunday 
evenings on such topics as this, "The Lover's 
Kiss." A Congregational minister in the same 
city gathered hungry souls together by a course 



THE CHRISTIANITY NEEDED 49 

of illustrated Sunday evening lectures on the 
wonders of the West, and scores of couples of 
affectionate young people, in the thick religious 
darkness, enjoyed — the pictures. These playful 
schemes for luring a sinful world to the Cross 
one does not dare to characterize. Will not some 
artist give us a series of slides on the Day of 
Judgment? Philip and Andrew are conducting 
fairs or managing rummage sales to buy a car- 
pet for the upper room. Paul and Silas are or- 
ganizing ball teams to challenge all comers, or 
adapting the Isthmian games to illustrate the race 
of life, or are putting their heads together to ar- 
range a musical program, an advertised and 
winsome rehearsal for the song of Moses and 
the Lamb. 

There is another and more attractive side to 
our present life. Stanley Hall, Starbuck, and 
Leuba are studying conversion and the contents 
of the religious consciousness with as much zeal 
as Darwin studied the earthworm, and are tell- 
ing us that it is as important for a youth to be 
deselfed by conversion as that he should be 
grounded in mathematics. The agnosticism of 
thirty years ago has lost its jaunty air, as we 
have come to see that it is another name for 
skepticism. Geo. H. Romanes, after twenty-five 
years of prayerlessness, returns to a vital Chris- 
tian faith. Herbert Spencer grimly smiled at 
Christianity while in the flush of manly vigor, 
and summed up his faith in God by saying, 



50 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

"There is an infinite and eternal source of energy 
from which all things proceed." But when old 
age came, he admitted his sympathy with the 
great Christian creeds of the ages, and declared 
his belief that the sphere of religion can never re- 
main unfilled. 

The evolution we used to dread ceases to ter- 
rify any save the ignorant. None but the blind 
can deny that growth is the method of God's on- 
ward movement. The clearest American inter- 
preter of evolution, John Fiske, declares that 
among its implications "the very deepest and 
strongest is the everlasting permanence of reli- 
gion." The best thinkers in the church, and out 
of it, are no longer shrinking from evolution any 
more than from gravitation. No one believes 
that either has reached its final statement, but 
the sooner a minister acknowledges himself a 
Christian evolutionist the better. Rev. R. J. 
Campbell was asked in Northfield how he got 
along with truth and evolution. "Truth and 
evolution? Evolution is truth." An evolutionist 
is not necessarily a Darwinian; the trend is now 
toward the opinion that fresh accessions of 
power may come at any time from the living 
God to nature and living men. Another favor- 
able change is the passing of the mechanical no- 
tion of inspiration. The higher critics are help- 
ing us to clearer views of God and the progres- 
sive nature of his revelation. There has been some 
loss of faith as a result. The coming of the lo- 



THE CHRISTIANITY NEEDED 51 

comotive threw old stage coaches to the scrap 
pile. A better faith will come after we have 
adapted ourselves to the facts. To oppose the 
movement of higher criticism were like trying to 
block the spring by killing the robins. Higher 
criticism had to come, and it does a thousand 
times as much good as harm. Those who have 
passed beyond the fear of surprise from evolution 
or criticism are like those who have safely es- 
caped the terrors of whooping cough and meas- 
les, or have outlived the dread occasioned by 
mention of bogies by an old nurse. The last 
census gives us one hundred and forty-seven re- 
ligious denominations, ranging from the lordly 
Presbyterians to the "Old Two-Seed-in-the- 
Spirit Predestinarian Baptists." Some are say- 
ing, "If there are so many ways of getting to 
heaven perhaps there is one more just outside 
of any church, for there are church members 
and church members." Shallow enough is this, 
yet plausible to the heedless. Still men hunger 
for God, and so bewildered are they sometimes 
that the charlatan deludes many by his fakes, 
which run up into the scores. Many are the de- 
vices to help us live "in tune with the Infinite." 
India is ransacked for her ancient half truths, 
and we may be gently wafted toward mental 
paralysis and a spiritual vacuum by the sonorous 
phrases of theosophy. The Granite State offers 
the mild confusions and puzzling contradictions 
of Mother Eddy, who, with shrewd, vague, high- 



52 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

sounding words at three dollars and sixteen cents 
a volume, deludes the sentimental. There are 
other places sacred to many where submission of 
the will, rather than an athletic and scholarly 
faith, is fostered. There are hothouse methods 
of religious culture which nurture placid feelings 
rather than a courageous life. 

Many are seeking with greater or less earn- 
estness to cultivate the spiritual life without 
Christ. The older faith emphasized knowing the 
truth as the porch to the temple of truth; the 
new trend is toward being — character. Many 
have been tortured and put to death for refusing 
to subscribe to a creed. Many now are denying 
the need of any creed. Religion is often regarded 
now as a better life, high thinking, lofty phras- 
ing, sometimes with not a little self-conceit. Few 
are in danger now from the mistake of Amiel, 
who may have confused the aches of a dyspeptic 
stomach with a longing after holiness. He said 
that from three to four in the afternoon he suf- 
fered most, and was the prey of a vague anxiety. 
"It is a sense of void and anguish; a sense of 
something lacking. What? Love, peace, God; 
perhaps." The hour of lowest psycho-physio- 
logical activity is, in general, from three to four. 
The good man was in the tortures of indigestion. 

Let me quote from a study of the contents of 
the religious consciousness, by Prof. James H. 
Leuba : 

" The God who rises before the Protestant An- 



THE CHRISTIANITY NEEDED 53 

glo-Saxon in his religious moods does not ordinarily 
throw him upon His knees. God has remained for 
him the bestower of the things he wants. He uses 
Him with the bluntness of the aggressive child of 
a domineering century, well-nigh stranger to the 
emotions of fear, awe, and reverence. He is used 
sometimes as meat-purveyor, as moral support, as 
friend, as object of love. If He proves Himself 
useful His right to remain in the service of man is 
vindicated. Not God but life — life, larger, richer, 
more satisfying life is, in the last analysis, the end 
of religion." 

There is much in this to appeal to the aver- 
age mind of today. The fallacy lies in what 
is omitted, and what the history of the race has 
proved indispensable to the abiding in the rich- 
est and fullest life. The race is coming to a de- 
cided consciousness of the value and importance 
of the individual, and has not quite co-ordinated 
this notion with some other truths. Thought, 
like life, is rhythmic. Just now, man is ahead. 
Later, we shall see that life can be kept strong 
and true only by vital friendship with God in 
Christ. This is seen by clear thinkers like Prof. 
Wm. James, who sums up the conclusions of his 
great book, "Varieties of Religious Experience," 
in these words : 

" We and God have business with each other, 
and in opening ourselves to His influence our deep- 
est destiny is fulfilled. By being religious we es- 
tablish ourselves in possession of ultimate reality at 
the only points at which reality is given us to guard. 
Let us agree that religion, occupying herself with 



54 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

personal destiny, and keeping thus in contact with 
the only absolute revelation which we know, must 
play an eternal part in human history." 

II. This leads us to consider the Christianity 
needed to-day. Personal religious experience 
touching the larger self which lies about us and 
beyond has often created a mysticism which 
plumes itself upon dissolving all barriers between 
the individual and the Absolute, and becomes an 
achievement of the feeling which finds expression 
in the confession, "I have nothing, I can do 
nothing, I am nothing," — thef*subimssioii of a 
slave rather than the resignation of a soldier. It 
is one-sided, strained, unbalanced. It broods 
over its own experiences; studies feelings 
rather than conduct. That is imperfect, because 
it lacks intelligent and historical contents, vigor, 
courage, aggressive action, and is liable to lead 
one into a dreamy and sentimental realm of un- 
reality and langour. We are in danger from a 
Christianity of this kind now. It is already 
among us, for the mind reacts from the chilling 
materialism of the past, and longs for God. We 
need more meditation; we need an escape from 
the rush and shallowness of this swift age in 
union with the every-day, practical Christ. 
Every experience is imperfect which does not 
bring us into personal fellowship with Jesus! 
Christ, who alone reveals the two indispensable 
elements of final religion, filial confidence, and a 
sense of human brotherhood. There is a mysti- 



THE CHRISTIANITY NEEDED 55 

cal element in all true religion, eager for absorp- 
tion in the universal soul. False mysticism is 
egoistic — solitary. True Christianity finds God 
in nature, friendship, every form of existence. 
Science is honored because God is found as really 
in the stars as in the soul. True Christianity is 
trustful and social. It has contents, reason, 
body, for it is the reaction of the soul upon the 
reality that surrounds it, and is fed by the in- 
dwelling of Christ, who alone creates within the 
soul an assurance of God as present, forgiving, 
reconciling, sympathizing, loving; and it is con- 
stantly seeking expression in action. 

"This is eternal life — to know thee, the only 
true God and Jesus Christ." Our only safety 
lies in cultivating a faith like Christ's, a perfect 
harmony of love for God, service for men, and a 
realization of personal manhood. No unknown 
gods will long meet the need. No vague emotion, 
or self-satisfied reverie, or passionless dreaming, 
will stand the test of a practical age, or content 
the soul that hungers for the living God. Facts 
and truths which the mind can grasp and see the 
reason for and the results of in the life, which 
the experience proves real, are found only in the 
Evangel. 

The true Christian faith must contain at least 
these three elements: It must be intelligent, prac- 
tical, and personal in fellowship with the Son of 
God. 

1. It must be intelligent. Mental confusion, 



56 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

brain paralysis, blind obedience to authority, or 
to the past, must not be canonized. It is too late 
to stifle the most exacting examination of the 
Bible — too late to fear the bugbears of evolution 
or higher criticism. If Christianity is to be the 
world faith, it must welcome truth from every 
quarter and face every challenge of a scientific 
age. The stages of "Yes, No, Yes" must be 
traversed with calmness and courage. Explora- 
tions, criticisms, sharpest probings should go on. 
The more thorough the better in the end. The 
truth will shine the brighter, later, and fear give 
place to a "peace not like that of Lethe's deadly 
calm." A true faith has for its field not only 
feelings, but also the reason, the judgment, clear 
insight, larger vision. 

£. It must be practical. We must have a 
faith which works by love, scorns shams, hates 
hypocrisy, and loaths selfish revery. In this 
time of stress and storm, the tendency to empha- 
size character, good deeds, an honorable life, is 
a good sign, and a clear prophecy of better days. 
We must learn, as De Witt Hyde tells us in his 
Practical Idealism, "to see life clear and see it 
whole; to feel the presence of the Infinite in its 
lowliest and humblest finite forms; to do the 
daily duty and fulfill the homely task, as the 
particular points where our hearts greet the uni- 
versal love, and our wills unite with the divine." 
We hail the dawn of the new day as we look upon 
the missionary and philanthropic enterprises 



THE CHRISTIANITY NEEDED 57 

springing up on every side. A faith that does 
not lead one to follow Christ in a passionate 
energy and tireless thoughtfulness in doing good 
is weak and pitiful. 

3. It must be personal in its fellowship with 
Christ. We are in immediate contact with God 
through Christ, and history shows that only as 
we keep our faith in Christ living and real, will 
our religion be strong, well-balanced, and per- 
manent in its grasp upon the known and the 
unknown. Christ is the heart of Christianity. 
Without His teachings to guide and correct, our 
faith becomes a dream, our prayer a soliloquy, 
our spiritual life unreal. Religious faith with- 
out forgiveness of sins were a house on the sand. 
A spiritual kingdom without adoration and 
service of the King were anarchy. Henry 
Churchill King puts it thus in his Reconstruc- 
tion of Theology: "There is no greater need in 
religious living and theological thinking to-day 
than a thorough-going and consistent hold on 
Christ's thought of religion as a personal rela- 
tion with God." "Vital" is the word which best 
expresses Prof. W. N. Clark's conception of the 
redeeming work of Christ. "Religion," as Lotze 
taught us, "is a deed." 

The Christian faith we need is intelligent, 
practical, and personal in our deepening friend- 
ship with Christ, with its surrender, His and 
ours; with mutual trust, constant fellowship, re- 
sponsive love, so real and inspiring that it shall 



58 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

make us strong. We need not so much a faith 
in a past resurrection, though our faith must be 
linked with history, and joined with an event 
which created Christianity out of the lacerated 
and marble contents of Joseph's tomb; nor so 
much a confidence that Jesus is to come by and 
by, necessary as is that to keep the hope serene : 
we need a faith in a Saviour who rises in us daily, 
is with us here and now, with words and spirit of 
life, and treasures of immortality. With that 
consciousness of the presence of the living Master 
the gospel will cease to be a "tale of little mean- 
ing though the words are strong," our daily con- 
duct will be spiritual: God's life the light of our 
consciences, perfect in joy and love. Then shall 
our Christian faith, our spiritual vision, our 
hidden and conquering strength, grandly meet 
the needs of to-day and go out with calmness 
and courage to welcome the problems and over- 
come the perils of to-morrow. 



VI 

A MINISTER AND HIS PEOPLE 

My story is of a minister who was with a 
church in penetrating and abiding influence. It 
was a good church, and the ministry had been de- 
voted and true, but a singular and beautiful era 
came when this good friend of Jesus became the 
pastor in Shiloh. Will you read the tale ? 

The minister had a fresh conviction of the 
fact that he went to that people as one whom 
Jesus Christ had sent with a definite message 
from God, a message of warning against the 
sinfulness, the delusiveness, the danger of sin, and 
with this, a burning conviction of the redeem- 
ing power of the gospel of a crucified Saviour 
and a life-giving Spirit. He did not hesitate to 
use sometimes those dark, fearful words which the 
Scriptures contain to describe the perils which 
threaten the impenitent, but he always did it so 
tenderly and gently that he seemed like a loving 
father warning his children. With warning he 
always coupled hope, and it was fine to see his 
face light up as it always did when he spoke of 
the love of Christ, whose salvation ever seemed 
to be to him a glad and wonderful surprise. 

The whole service in church was a good stage 
heavenward, partly because every one came to 
expect it, partly because the people went to 
59 



60 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

church believing that their minister would give 
them a message straight from the heart of 
Christ, made living in his own experience, and 
also because he put meaning into every part of 
the service. He firmly believed that the Spirit 
uses a hymn, a prayer, a passage of Scripture as 
well as a sermon to help float a congregation God- 
ward. He remembered Spurgeon's saying that 
he knew of two persons led to Jesus by the read- 
ing of a hymn. He sometimes read the hymns 
and sometimes not, for he shrank from the stere- 
otyped, but he always put heart, love, and en- 
thusiasm into the minutest detail; even the offer- 
ing came to be a service to God, as though Christ 
were there to receive the money in his scarred 
hand. Some one said once, "It would be an in- 
spiration to hear George William Curtis repeat 
the multiplication table." This clear-headed 
minister gave distinction even to the "notices." 
A prayer service became a goal to be taken by 
violence, and a sewing society as privileged as 
"the upper room" ; nickel changed to silver, and 
copper shone with golden hue under the spell of 
his thoughtful and finished sentences. 

He broke away from the feeling that the min- 
istry is a profession. On Sunday morning, after 
careful preparation for the devotions in church 
and for the sermon, he would go aside and lie 
down for a little, to gain rest and poise and to 
gather strength for the coming service. He well 
knew that his best was demanded and that the 



A MINISTER AND HIS PEOPLE 61 

service would carry joy to men and angels. He 
used to say to Jesus before going into the pul- 
pit: "Now, Master, it is your own work and 
these dear souls are all yours. You must be sure 
to go with me today. I wish my sermon were in 
better shape, but I have tried to receive just 
what you had for me today, and it is wholly for 
you and yours. I know you can use me today to 
help some one who needs comfort, warning or in- 
spiration:" — and the living Saviour never failed 
him. 

There was much variety in his preaching. 
Sometimes he took a doctrine, but he made it so 
concrete and vivid that when the people went 
away they never said, "I hate to hear a doctrinal 
sermon." The doctrine was in such thorough 
solution in his clear and impassioned address 
that Deacon Hart said one day to a neighbor: 
"How clearly our minister pictures God as 
Father; Jesus as our infinite Saviour; the Holy 
Spirit as the creative author of life, and the fatal 
misery and penalty of sin as a truth which ap- 
peals to us all;" and Fred Harris, the lively 
Yale sophomore, said, "That sermon on prayer 
made me feel that praying is about the best 
thing a fellow can do. It may be a fine kind 
of coaching." 

Knowing that people think in pictures, or, 
dulled and wearied by abstractions, pass into 
dreamland, he made much use of imagery, often 
telling what the gospel is like, going into every- 



62 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

day life, the shop, the kitchen, and the garden 
for illustrations. He remembered how Wendell 
Phillips used to carry his audience captive by 
vivid pictures, concrete instances. Sometimes 
he took a book of the Bible for a study, and 
people would go away with a fadeless vision of 
Hosea, or would say, "How inspiring that Paul 
could write from prison such a letter as that to 
the Philippians !" He remembered what Dr. 
William Adams used to say to his students, "Do 
not feed your people always with crumbs, — give 
them good slices." Sometimes he would take a 
chapter or ten verses for text, and the people 
would say, "We've had a rich slice of the bread 
of life today." He did not forget that he was 
an apostle of the twentieth century, yet he never 
awakened the remark, "Our minister preaches to 
the times and not to the eternities." Moral re- 
forms had a place in his sermons, but he used to 
say, "What is the use of stirring up trouble un- 
less one is likely to do good?" He was a stu- 
dent, and every morning found him among his 
books, and he instructed his people on the bear- 
ing of religion upon science and criticism, for he 
thought it better that they should be well 
grounded and intelligent concerning the sources 
of faith, and ready with a clear answer to the 
shallow critic, than exposed to surprise and dis- 
may at captious remarks ; but he never forgot 
that he was called of God to be a good minister 
of the gospel of salvation, and he never dreamed 
that salvation spelled criticism. 



A MINISTER AND HIS PEOPLE 63 

There was a stirring note of joy in his preach- 
ing. He found the keynote of the Bible to be 
joy, and he used to say, "We are rehearsing for 
the heavenly anthem." One hearer said, "I've 
been in the Christian life thirty years and I never 
before realized what a glorious thing it is to be 
a Christian." He never preached a sermon with- 
out definite aim and without expecting that that 
sermon would be an event in some life for which 
he had been praying. He preached much on the 
great themes, and always moved on a high level 
of thought, though never without a deep sympa- 
thy with the burdened and the obscure. When- 
ever tempted to drop beneath the level of noble 
thought and refined feeling, he brought himself 
back like lightning as he reflected that Jesus 
was in the pulpit with him. 

He used to say that his most effective work 
was organized work, — one sermon linked to an- 
other, to create a definite and cumulative im- 
pression. He was careful to address the will, 
but always by awakening the emotions and driv- 
ing home the truth, as the old warriors used to 
drive the glittering edge of polished steel with 
all their might. He used to say he had three 
rules for speaking which he learned from his 
great teacher, Prof. R. D. Hitchcock. As to 
clearness, find out what you would say and say 
it. Beauty is nothing put on, but the flash of 
thought. Force is putting will into it. He 
liked to write his sermons through at one heat, 



64 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

and then he spent all the time he could spare in 
polishing, condensing, and strengthening the 
sentences, that they might carry the message to 
the mind with the least possible friction. He 
used to say, "The longer I live the more I am 
impressed with two facts: that it makes much 
difference how a thing is put, and also the 
power of an impassioned will gathering the en- 
ergies of the soul together to launch the truth." 
Being a puritan, he had a conscience, and he 
took for granted that his hearers were simi- 
larly endowed. He used to say sometimes, "I 
have a conscience as well as you. It is no better 
than yours, but it is all I have." 

He never preached in the minor key but al- 
ways with a fine ring of triumph. He was al- 
ways careful to close with the expectant note. 
He was careful to cultivate his own soul. Among 
his books of devotion, Richard Cecil easily stood 
next the Bible, and he used to read over and 
over these words of that English minister of a 
century ago, "The grand aim of a minister must 
be the exhibition of gospel truth. His first duty 
is to call on his hearers to turn to the Lord. 
Men who lean toward the extreme of evangelical 
privileges do much more than they who lean 
toward the extreme of requirements. To know 
Jesus Christ for ourselves is to make Him con- 
solation, delight, strength, righteousness, com- 
panion, and end." 

I must not invade his secret life to tell you 



A MINISTER AND HIS PEOPLE 65 

how he daily talked with God; sometimes sitting 
in his study with an empty chair near by, which 
was not empty to him, or standing for a mo- 
ment as he was about to go out, — for another 
eager word with Jesus. He regarded prayer for 
his people as important as calling or preaching. 

In this minister's prayers in the pulpit, he 
seemed like a father gathering his dear chil- 
dren together around the throne of heavenly 
bounty, and people would say, "The prayer was 
a sacrament, we were in the holy of holies." 

It was clear that conversation with Christ 
was a daily practice and that he left neither ob- 
jects nor language of public prayer to the hour 
in the pulpit. Some one said once, "I believe 
our pastor must have a book where he writes 
prayers when life is at high tide, to inspire when 
the ebb lingers wearily on the beach." 

His manner was serious yet cheerful; noble 
yet sympathetic. Not believing it necessary to 
canonize solemnity at the risk of dullness, he was 
not afraid to call up a smile, though he ever 
talked as a living man to living men. 

What shall I say of his daily life? There 
rang through his soul the words of a charge 
given him at his ordination, "So live that when 
people see you in the street they shall think that 
you are walking with Christ." 

It was a joy to him to be with his people in 
their homes. He went to them as a friend, and 
more, as a good shepherd, eager to feed, restrain, 



66 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

guide, quicken any who needed his wise counsels. 
On returning from an afternoon in the parish 
he could neither study nor read, so weary and 
burdened was he. He thought much of the needs 
of his people. His prayer list kept changing, 
as one by one the repentant took the place of the 
indifferent. He felt a keen responsibility for the 
conversion and growth of every one under his care 
and once a year at least he sought in some way to 
bring the gospel personally to every impenitent 
life. In calling, he ever sought the guidance of 
the Good Shepherd, and he never declined when 
the voice said, "Let us go thither, rather than yon- 
der." His calls were always friendly, but not al- 
ways purely social, for he went as an artist of the 
spiritual life with mind enraptured with eternal 
realities. He entered with sympathy into the lives 
of his people, but never as a meddler or busybody ; 
— now becoming a burdened father anxious for 
his son; now a merry schoolboy; now a weary 
sufferer. He had no rule about praying in the 
homes, but he was on the lookout for the best 
way to mingle the spiritual life with common 
tasks, and when he knelt for a moment of audible 
prayer it seemed as natural as the jest which fell 
as a pearl from his pure lips. After praying he 
went right away, as Maclaren says, "Bidding his 
people good-by before the throne of grace, and 
in the very presence of the Lord." 

He had a warm place in the love of his people 
because he gave so freely to them all he was. 



A MINISTER AND HIS PEOPLE 67 

They felt they could pour out their cares and 
he would keep their confidence as sacred as his 
life. 

The ministry was his calling and not his busi- 
ness, yet he made a business of his ministry. He 
was careful in the use of time, yet he never 
seemed in a hurry. There was a fine dignity in 
him which sometimes asserted itself. One day he 
called at an office. "Call again, an hour is noth- 
ing to a minister," said the business man. There 
flew to his lips Cecil's words, "An hour nothing 
to a minister! You little understand the nature 
of our profession. One hour of a minister's time, 
rightly employed, sir, is worth more to him than 
all the gains of your merchandise." 

Was this good minister never disheartened? 
Yes, and at such times he liked to read Cecil's 
words, "Perhaps it is a greater energy of divine 
power which keeps the Christian from day to 
day, praying, hoping, believing, than that which 
bears him up for an hour at the stake ;" and Em- 
erson's great message to the preacher, "Dis- 
charge to them the priestly office, and present or 
absent you shall be followed by their love as an 
angel. The true preacher is known by this, that 
he deals out to people his life." So much for 
this effective minister who received the truth at 
first hand from the Bible and the Spirit and gave 
it forth through his own life as current coin in 
the King's realm where he moved in royal gen- 
tleness. 



68 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

The people! It is they who were largely re- 
sponsible for the best results of this ministry. 
Their charity and devotion, their readiness to 
respond and to do their part created a watered 
garden in which the minister's graces flourished. 
There is something in what Gladstone says, 
"Eloquence is a giving back in rain what the 
speaker receives in mist." There is much in the 
saying, "A responsive and praying people call 
forth the best that is in their minister." Those 
Christians in Shiloh knew the Bible and human 
nature, and that united faith, sympathy, and 
hard work form a mighty church. They took 
religion seriously ; put thought and time into it ; 
most of them believed that morning prayer is as 
important as breakfast, and the prayer-meeting 
as valuable as a bridge-whist party. They went 
to church in the spirit of Emerson's thought, 
"We come to church properly for self-examina- 
tion ; for approach to principles ; to see how it 
stands with us with the deep and dear facts of 
life and love." Whenever the sermon was less 
finished and strong than usual, they said nothing 
but words of kindness, and remembered that no 
clock strikes twelve every hour; that on some 
days bread is heavy and the cake falls. When- 
ever he made a blunder, they had sense enough 
to recall the fact that they lived in houses of 
crystal. When a brother faltered they acted on 
Burke's words, "Applaud us when we run; con- 
sole us when we fall; cheer us when we recover, 



A MINISTER AND HIS PEOPLE 69 

but let us pass on — for God's sake, let us pass 
on." 

They noticed that the church in Sodom Val- 
ley was usually in trouble; ministers were fleet- 
ing, and a Shiloh deacon said, "The Sodom folks 
shrink from a straight message, and they turn 
the dinner hour on Sunday into a forum to dis- 
cuss the minister in sharp criticism." The Shi- 
loh people felt about unkind scrutiny of their 
minister as you would feel about bitter words 
concerning your mother. They remembered that 
Jesus had called them to be skilful and winsome 
"fishers," not critics. As the minister gave his 
best to them so they gave their best to him. His 
salary was paid generously, gladly and 
promptly. They went to church so joyfully 
and welcomed strangers so cordially that the 
service came to be thought of as a festival of 
friendliness and holiness. They were clear that 
the business of the church is fourfold: worship, 
instruction, inspiration, and service. 

Over in Gomorrah, the people thought that 
the minister was hired to do the praying as well 
as the preaching, and the minister's wife was an 
unpaid, economical helper, — not so in Shiloh, 
where the people felt that they were called and 
ordained almost as really as the minister. 

So the years went by in happy Shiloh; beau- 
tiful years. The whole town was enriched with 
kindness, fairness, courage, and love. Many en- 
tered the kingdom; many were trained in char- 



70 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

acter ; the downcast were strengthened by visions 
and rich truth. The minister said, "I would not 
exchange my church for any other in the world," 
and the people said, "Our minister makes God 
seem so near, the kingdom so real, and daily life 
so rich in occasions for royal service, that we 
wonder if heaven can be much better." 



VII 

SOME THINGS TO EMPHASIZE IN 
PREACHING 

We look first at the preacher's task, which is 
to build up character in Christian principle. We 
ministers stand before our people, knowing that 
in the moments of public worship we bring them 
"the deep and dear facts of life and love, the 
great lines of destiny." 

Sharp criticisms from every side disturb our 
ease. Says Prof. Momerie, "If the church is to 
live, not merely as an establishment, but in any 
form at all, preaching must be either abolished or 
reformed." People say they want preaching, but 
their state of mind reminds us of a recruit in 
Coxey's army who said "We don't know what we 
want, but we want something awful bad, and we 
want it awful quick." 

In our perplexity and dismay we sometimes 
feel, as we think of our sermons, as an amateur 
artist felt when he asked a friend how much he 
ought to get for his picture, and the candid friend 
replied, "about six months." One urges, "preach 
the old Gospel," and omits an explanation how to 
make it new. A distinguished minister said his 
mother exacted from him a promise to preach so 
that every sermon would contain a call to Christ. 
That cannot mean a repetition of dear, familiar 
71 



72 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

phrases. What would you think of a professor of 
engineering who should tell his classes that since 
all discoveries in mathematics depend on a clear 
knowledge of first principles he would refuse to 
cater to the restlessness of the present and a love 
for novelty and content himself every day by re- 
citing the old truths of the multiplication table. 

We all agree that the business of the minister is 
to preach Christ; he is a minister of the gospel, 
God's revelation of eternal life; a gospel which 
meets every need of human life, rebuilds manhood 
and prepares for a long career. We are called to 
enter every field of thought, use any subject, 
truth or argument which shall establish men in 
Christian character and the practice of Christian 
principle. The minister knows no secular field 
which should not be penetrated by the gospel. It 
is a vast area sweeping on past the judgment ; but 
our business is with seriousness, tenderness and 
awe to insist that eternal sanctions and laws must 
control our daily living and regulate our decisions 
and conduct. 

We must deal with questions of the hour. We 
cannot hope to interest the people if we do not ; 
they live in the present. There is a danger of ca- 
tering to the present. A minister of the Church 
of England in a floating Bethel, whose zeal sur- 
passed his controversial reading, was asked 
whether his Bethel was High Church or Low 
Church, replied, "That depends entirely on the 
tide." We must watch the tide and control it. 



SOME THINGS TO EMPHASIZE 73 

It requires a level head, a sense of humor, and 
no end of Christian principle, to handle the 
truths which ought to be presented in the light of 
the Bible and the present Christ. We really ought 
to be fine, broad, noble-hearted men ; and we must 
interest people else they may repeat to us the 
lines of Crabbe's Convert. 

" That from your meetings I refrain, 'tis true ; 
I meet with nothing pleasant, nothing new, 
But the same proofs that not one thing explain, 
And the same lights when all things dark remain." 

Our dryness is not always due to the depravity 
of the people who slumber before us, but some- 
times to shadows of puritanism upon us which 
overlook the grace of humor and that sunny side 
of our nature which is as divine as solemnity. 

The preacher is the only orator in the world 
who neglects the power of laughter in pleading 
for life and death. 

We are fishers of men. Dullness is an unpar- 
donable sin. Questions of the hour need discus- 
sion in the light of Christ and common sense ; any 
other notion would imply that the gospel is a sys- 
tem of barren abstractions with no bearing on 
daily life. Our fear should be, not that we shall 
widen the field too much, but that we shall make it 
too narrow. If a sinful practice is going on in 
the community and the preacher does not strike 
it, he fails in duty. Beecher said: "It seems to 
me to be a very dangerous thing to preach Christ 
so that your preaching shall not be a constant re- 



74 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

buke to all the evil in the community." What 
interest of a man is aloof from the gospel? And 
if we do not so use the moments of worship that 
the secular life shall be more intelligently Christ- 
like, pure, rich, strong, of what value is preach- 
ing? 

Preaching is building Christian character. 

The first fact we face is the idea of evolution. 
A half century ago Darwin published the "Origin 
of Species" and the thought of our time is filled 
with its spirit to such a degree that it is hard to 
believe that we cannot outgrow even sin. This 
widespread principle tends to weaken the sense of 
responsibility even more than the strict determin- 
ism of a century and a half since. Heredity and 
environment are held responsible for evil, and the 
moral sense is poisoned at its source. Many think 
that evils will disappear if only society can be re- 
organized ; the fact of sin in the individual as the 
seat of all evil is overlooked, and a false optimism 
encouraged which leads men to believe that sin 
will be left behind in the onward march of civili- 
zation. 

Another fact which deserves careful attention is 
this, that we have broken loose from tradition and 
must readjust many of our habits. The old meth- 
ods of thinking of the Bible, observing the Sab- 
bath, and amusements have passed away. For- 
merly there were certain unwritten laws in Chris- 
tian communities about novel-reading, dancing, 
and many other "worldly" pleasures. Secular 



SOME THINGS TO EMPHASIZE 75 

papers and books, letter-writing, and driving, ex- 
cept to church, were contraband on the Sabbath. 
These theories have passed away. Every one 
must now find out how to keep the day, with the 
result that it is seldom kept at all. The word 
"worldly" has almost ceased to be used. Freedom 
to think and live as one may choose often passes 
into license, and there is need of a deep, broad 
view of the principles of the kingdom in this age 
of reconstruction. 

A third fact is this, that we are living in an age 
of great material wealth ; many are content to re- 
peat Parker Pilsbury's dying words to Thoreau 
who asked him what new idea he had caught of the 
coming life, as he stood on the margin, "Henry, 
one world is enough at a time." The pulpit must 
stand for a broader view than that. Our hearers 
should say when returning from church, "There 
are interests more valuable than money ; my fears 
have been removed; my hopes strengthened; my 
ideals elevated ; my weakness and discouragements 
lessened; Christ seems more real and kingly; 
heaven nearer; a life of courage and honor 
grander; there is an eternal life of righteousness 
and blessedness which dwarfs my petty ambi- 
tions." 

This leads us to ask, where should we put our 
emphasis ? 

First of all on the positive message of Christ 
as the infinite Son of God and able to meet every 
human need. Believing that all men are God's 



76 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

children, whom Christ restores to the Father, our 
message should be given with the downward slide. 

It is time for the pulpit interrogation mark to 
hear the sunset gun. The upward inflection tires. 
The affirmative, the positive are needed today. 
People have doubts enough of their own. The 
best apologetic is a clear, straight message. A 
powerful gospel is iron in the blood, certainty in 
the voice, conviction in the soul. 

If we really believe that sin is dangerous, cruel, 
deadly, and that Christ delivers, how can we be 
other than positive preachers? Men and women 
burdened, discouraged, indifferent, perplexed, 
look to their minister to float them heavenward; 
equip for temptation; strengthen for struggle; 
prepare them to face the near and distant future 
with a cheer. 

The minister needs to have with every sermon 
the conviction that the truth it conveys comes 
straight from the Christ of the twentieth century 
for the need of the passing hour to form an event 
in some life. This will give that sense of new- 
ness and vitality which the apostles had. They 
believed that they went straight with the living 
Christ, in the grace of Christ to the people, and 
whenever the sense of newness has weakened the 
gospel has lost power. Said John McNeill, "God 
give us to preach a perpetual sense of a glad and 
wonderful surprise at our own salvation." 

The pathetic picture of a cross rising afar 
above the dreary flats of time must not dim our 



SOME THINGS TO EMPHASIZE 77 

eyes to the view of Jesus Christ as very God, who 
hates saloons, graft, ill-temper, evil-speaking, 
and meanness of every kind as He does the Prince 
of Darkness, and offers a royal welcome to every 
penitent soul whom He would build up into royal 
character. 

The expression of this message will vary in 
form, but there must be a passage of the clear 
light of infinite truth living in the eternal Son 
of God through the preacher's mind to human 
souls, or the pulpit confuses and hurts. 

The preacher may not always be able wisely 
and conclusively to apply the truth to social un- 
rest, commercial injustice, and intellectual doubt; 
but he must believe absolutely that there is in 
the republic of heavenly brotherhood an answer 
for every question, a solution for every difficulty, 
a medicine for every hurt, a tonic for every weak- 
ness. Christ's ambassador is a thinking lens for 
the passage of gospel light. Strange if some one 
some time does not enter the Kingdom while the 
sermon flashes the heavenly gleam. 

A second thing for emphasis is the practical- 
ness of the Kingdom. The clearest definition of 
the Kingdom I have seen is "the world of invisible 
laws by which God is ruling and blessing His 
creatures." 

It is the business of the preacher to so live in 
the Kingdom and explain it that its principles 
shall appear as real as gravitation, the laws of 
the state or government bonds. He must see the 



78 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

lostness of an impenitent life, and agree with 
Canon Liddon when he says, "If our age has out- 
grown the phrase 'the salvation of the soul,' so 
much the worse for the age." The minister is not 
a moral policeman, or a conductor on a trunk line 
to heaven, or a superintendent of a cyclopedia of 
mild and beneficent endeavors. 

In our reaction from the "other-worldliness" 
idea and our eagerness to keep abreast of the lat- 
est fad, we should avoid the temptation to think 
that psychotherapy is on a level with repentance ; 
alleviation of insomnia in the same class with faith 
in Christ; and conducting a swimming tank as 
important as baptism. A holy life is natural and 
happy. Sin is unnatural, the Kingdom's invis- 
ible laws are here, and its resources ample for the 
humbled, footsore, hungry children of the Father. 

The Christian ideal of life and conduct needs 
applying to the workshop, the mill, the home; it 
is meant for employer and employed. Many bear 
the burden of "duty unfulfilled" because they are 
not sure what their duty is. The minister who 
clearly, convincingly, and practically applies 
spiritual laws to every day life ; who helps people 
to see exactly what it is for them to be Christians ; 
who preaches "as though Christ were the head of 
the firm," is doing the work to which he is called. 
Many care as much for Moses as for Julius 
Caesar, and for David as for Peter the Hermit, 
but all are facing a stern, hard, delusive world, 
and it is the preacher's task to show the f riendli- 



SOME THINGS TO EMPHASIZE 79 

ness of Jesus, the fulness of His helpfulness for 
every hour, and the bearing of the Kingdom upon 
the whole of life. Charles Ferguson says, "It is 
a superficial judgment that this is a sordid and 
God-forgetting age, because it is occupied with 
questions of board and clothes, and bent on get- 
ting them settled right. It is the greatness of the 
age that it is engrossed in economics, and that it 
sees in tangible things wrought by the labor of 
men, sacramental values, and the materials of re- 
ligion. This is the beginning of a new order of 
things more beautiful and joyous than has yet 
been on the earth." I believe that this is abso- 
lutely true and the pulpit is the opportunity for 
a clear-sighted, deep-thinking, warm-hearted man 
to bring the eternal laws and sanctions of the 
Kingdom into the despairing, perplexing, sinful 
ways of men. 

The last point for emphasis I will mention is 
summoning men to face God in their present re- 
sponsibility. Reacting from the preaching 
which called men to meet an angry judge armed 
with deathless terrors, we must fear lest we pre- 
sent God as a mild and fatherly old gentleman, 
too polite to hurt any one. Our theology is de- 
fective if we think that human fatherhood is deep 
and broad enough to represent the Fatherhood of 
One who is our Creator and the infinite Reason as 
well as Father. We are untrue to the Bible, the 
intrenched sins and defiant moods of selfish men 
if the pulpit does not become a frequent rehearsal 



80 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

of what used to be described as a standing before 
the great white throne. Flowers and rose water 
will not take the place of pressing home to the 
conscience the sinfulness and peril of an impeni- 
tent life. A breeze from Sinai must play about 
the mountain of Beatitudes. Tenderness, a keen 
insight into our own lives and sympathy with our 
tempted, faltering brothers are needed to place the 
righteous and loving God before evasive, ingeni- 
ous and careless men so that they shall give the 
Kingdom first place in conscience and practice. 
God is skillful in using strange sermons if the 
heart of the preacher be sincere, but forensic pic- 
tures, dramatic arraignments, in which sternness 
overshadows reasonableness, lie not level to many 
a man we should gladly win. God's patience must 
be sorely taxed with the "eternally feminine" note 
which calls to Jesus because it is healthy to be a 
Christian. There must be a way of pushing the 
danger of a sinful life home upon the conscience 
which is scriptural and up to date if we have 
earnestness and courage to find and use it. It cer- 
tainly must be preached so that men shall say 
"That is true; if I do not repent, my pastor has 
been faithful." Perhaps the best verse to suggest 
our work here is "As a man soweth so shall he 
reap." But the preacher stands forth as a repre- 
sentative of the Father's throne. The world ex- 
pects him to be true to the call ; and laughs, pities 
and passes by if he is weak or short-sighted 
enough to flinch. Sin is dangerous and unfor- 



SOME THINGS TO EMPHASIZE 81 

saken it must be punished. We may use modern 
terms to describe the peril of the great refusal, 
but if the pulpit does not call a sharp halt to un- 
righteousness and lead men to see that they are on 
the right road or the wrong road, that eternity is 
long, life precious, and the human will free and 
responsibile for character and destiny, the gospel 
loses its ring of power. 

A treatise would relate other points of empha- 
sis, but these are the ones which seem to me to 
stand in the first class, a clear, positive message 
from God to a sinful, redeemed world, the prac- 
ticalness of the Kingdom for every human experi- 
ence, and a summons to a present judgment for 
sin. 



VIII 

EARTHQUAKES AfrD GOD 

We are in a world which daily challenges our 
faith in God's Providence, and sometimes a ca- 
lamity befalls which with strenuous urgency in- 
sists on explanation. Not because it is unlike in 
kind frequent occurrences, but because it is so ex- 
tensive, so dismal, so terrific, that we are obliged 
to take up afresh the old question we have so often 
and so earnestly tried to settle, — does God send 
trouble? Does He approve of anguish? There 
is plenty of distress. One is reminded of John 
Stuart Mill's scathing indictment: "Nature does 
with the most supercilious disregard both of 
mercy and justice, with hurricane and pestilence, 
overmatch anarchy and the reign of terror in in- 
justice, ruin and death. We are also reminded 
of Tennyson's famous stanza: 

" Who trusted God was love indeed, 
And love creation's final law, 
Though nature red with tooth and claw 
With ravine, shrieked against his creed." 

Explosions, tornadoes, tidal-waves, conflagra- 
tions, angry volcanoes, earthquakes, pestilences, 
hurry multitudes out of the world, and leave as 
many more crushed, maimed, heart-broken. 
Hecker estimates that the Black Death in the 
82 



EARTHQUAKES AND GOD 83 

fourteenth century slaughtered twenty-five mil- 
lions; the earthquake in Lisbon slew fifty thou- 
sand, the Messina-Reggio earthquake, two hun- 
dred thousand. 

Biology reveals the astonishing fact that num- 
berless destructive living creatures besiege us, — 
bacteria, bacilli, germs of all kinds, malignant, 
watchful, deadly, an army which never sleeps, is 
never off guard. Without music or banners it is 
always ready, always marshalled by skilful and 
energetic officers. It is swift, gallant, determined. 
You bruise your finger, and the advance guard is 
on the quivering flesh in an instant, ready for 
battle. There is no sound of a trumpet, but there 
is the nerve of a Farragut and the doggedness of 
a Grant. In twenty-four hours one little sol- 
dier has a family of sixteen millions born in a day, 
and every one as fierce and resolute as he. 

Whether the lightning or the diptheria strikes 
your child, or a wave at Galveston sweeps away 
six thousand in an hour, the problem is the same. 
We read that seventeen thousand persons are 
killed or injured every year in the mills, the work- 
shops and on the railroads of Allegheny County, 
Pennsylvania. We try to think that the story is 
an exaggeration, and with a quiver of pain pass 
on to the next item. But when the earth rises like 
a giant awakening from sleep, and a noble city 
falls in dust and flames we ask "Why?" So sur- 
feited with marvels are we, so accustomed to dis- 
aster, that we need the terrific to make us thought- 



84 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

ful. What are we to think of earthquakes and 
God, calamities and Providence ? 

1. Not that disasters are judgments. They 
may be, but we are not wise enough for the judg- 
ment seat which decides on such momentous issues. 
We are more at home in the seats of the scornful. 
The theory of judgment was struck hard by the 
clear refutal of Job's antiquated friends, and 
swept away by Christ's denial that the people 
crushed by Siloam's tower were worse than oth- 
ers. Saints and sinners are partners in trouble. 
The babe sleeping in its cradle, the convict swear- 
ing in his cell, the church and the brothel, the 
home and the rumshop are equally exposed to dis- 
aster. Like sunshine and rain, calamity falls on 
the evil and the good. 

2. We cannot think that there is no meaning 
in harsh events, that God is unfeeling, that Provi- 
dence is only a cold, pitiless force, running on age 
after age, mangling, crushing, killing, with no 
ear for shrieks and groans, — a vast machine, 
stern, powerful, heartless, terrific. One Who 
knows more than we about the inner side of Provi- 
dence, assures us that the twitter of the fallen 
sparrow calls forth a throb of sympathy in the 
heart of God. 

3. We must try to see the world in a large 
way, and in the light of its purpose. The world 
is the training-ground of character. For 
aught we know it is the best possible world for 
this purpose. Who will venture to say that it is 



EARTHQUAKES AND GOD 85 

not? When Leibnitz insisted that it is the best 
possible world, with accent on possible, he meant 
that the alternative was between a world with 
trouble and evil and a world with no free intelli- 
gences. We know too little about world-making 
to judge very accurately. We are not even ama- 
teurs. We must believe that God is wise and good, 
and is in all and over all, and we find ourselves in 
a very trying world. We wish disasters would 
skip us and our folks, but they will not always do 
so, and when they come we must try to be men. 
We must remember that in a world large enough 
to have an atmosphere, there must be vast oceans, 
mighty currents, delicate cloud-balancings, and 
if an occasional tornado or cloudburst works 
havoc, we should feel thankful that the unwel- 
come visitor stayed away so long. We are on a 
globe of molten metal and seething minerals, and 
as we slowly creep over the thin crust, the marvel 
is that things are as pleasant as they are. A 
shrinking globe has to bend and crinkle a little 
now and then where the crust is tender, and the 
rock layers are so placed as to slip over one an- 
other, and it is unsafe to live in that quarter, 
though the oranges are sweet there and the air 
balmy and perfumed with spices. On the whole 
the old globe does very well. It is the best we 
know for the present, and it provides a fairly 
good home for us now in our extreme youth. We 
are assured there is something more substantial 
ahead. 



86 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

We have spasms of shallowness when we ask 
why God does not interfere to prevent grievous 
loss. Why not ventilate Vesuvious quietly? Why 
not shore up the western edge of California ? Why 
not convert a tornado into a sweet and soothing 
zephyr? Why not change cyclones into lullabies, 
and thunderbolts into auroras? Why did He not 
at His own expense repair the rotten timbers of 
the General Slocum, and render fireproof, with- 
out cost to greedy men, a theater firetrap? He 
could do any of these things as easily as a mother 
can run into the street and rescue her child from 
the swift automobile. 

He could paralyze the arm of every assassin, 
pierce unto death every malignant microbe, arrest 
every tidal wave, smother every threatening flame, 
render every dangerous river slow and ropy, and 
convert the world into a state of mild and inoffen- 
sive monotony. In such a world one would sym- 
pathize with Byron's lines: 

" With pleasure drugged, he almost longed for 
woe — 
And e'en for change of scene would seek the 
shades below ! " 

Without danger and possible disaster watch- 
fulness would cease, struggle die into sloth, in- 
ventive genius sleep, zeal for attainment fade 
away. Laziness is a vice of the uncivilized; men 
are awakened to effort by fears, storms, disap- 
pointments. Mankind has to be exploded, burned, 



EARTHQUAKES AND GOD 87 

crushed into progress. God might have made us 
all after the fashion of Coleridge's "Painted ship 
upon a painted ocean," but He preferred men who 
can move and He knows how to keep us moving. 

A few years ago the railroads were told that 
they ought to put on the Westinghouse brake and 
Miller platform, and directors shrugged their 
portly shoulders. What are a few deaths a month 
compared with fat dividends ! But when the Re- 
vere horror sent scores of valuable lives along 
the way of dusky death and nearly ruined the 
Eastern Railroad, changes were made which save 
lives and property. 

Physicians may fill the magazines with articles 
on sanitary drainage, and mayors and aldermen 
will call them "scientific fools," until cholera or 
typhoid appears; then trenches are opened, pipes 
laid, and the "fool's" statue is placed in the heart 
of the city. Terror is needed to startle the selfish 
and the sluggish. Disaster calls forth from ashes 
a better Boston, Chicago, Baltimore, San Fran- 
cisco. 

Science, art, reform, manhood, are forced on- 
ward by pain and fear. It is doubtful if the colo- 
nists would have conquered Britain had not a cen- 
tury and a half of Indian wars trained them. Na- 
ture is a stern but effective teacher. Fear crushes 
many and calls out resolution in those who win. 
Pain tortures, and at length chloroform and ether 
appear. Charity and mildness pauperize; trial 
and hardship stiffen the will. Says an ancient 



88 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

writer, "When a difficulty falls upon you, remem- 
ber that God, like a trainer of wrestlers, has 
matched you with a rough man that you may be- 
come an Olympic conqueror. But it is not accom- 
plished without sweat." 

Disaster challenges our motives and tests our 
character. A sudden calamity calls on the busi- 
ness world to halt in its swift career of trade and 
ambition. Questions rise which must be faced. 
Who are we? What is life? In what does our 
well-being consist? 

Our small minds have scant space for ideas of 
God and man through centuries, milleniums. The 
goal is far away. In his poem on the destruction 
of Lisbon, Voltaire gives the conclusion of reli- 
gion thus : 

" All will one day be well, we fondly hope : 
All that is well to-day is but the dream 
Of erring men, however wise they seem, 
And God alone is right." 

It is unfair, childish, to judge of a work be- 
fore it is complete. Our wisest teacher assures 
us that the enthronement of character through 
testing is the goal of this stormy period. We 
catch glimpses of the coronation in the heroism, 
charity, brotherliness, which in a naughty world 
shine out against a dark background of anguish. 
The call to kindness, sympathy, skill, courage, 
patience, and self-sacrifice, rings through a world 
of need and torture. A world with no fevers, 
shipwrecks, earthquakes, would lull and soothe, 



EARTHQUAKES AND GOD 89 

but there would be no Florence Nightingales, or 
Grace Darlings, or Clara Bartons. 

This gold-enraptured age may need the rebuke 
of the keen upward inflection to send haughty 
criminals like stricken serpents to die of shame, 
and of the loud voice of God in volcano and earth- 
quake bidding it pause and consider. Were this 
world all and anything less than an immortal 
character the goal, our faith were sometimes in 
sore straits, but if death from a falling wall opens 
a gateway into a richer life, there is little to 
choose between such an exit and the stilling of 
pneumonia. The problem rests easier in our 
thoughts as we think of the eternal years. The 
question, How is disaster related to Providence, — 
will long puzzle the narrow minds of men. Ap- 
parent inequalities, excessive hardships, biting 
winds, the very stars raining calamity, the earth 
rising to destroy, the ocean lifting up its billows, 
unspeakable agony, unutterable sorrow, dim our 
eyes, so that we fail to see the deeper truth, or 
gain a glimpse of the wider view. But they whose 
lives are smooth and sheltered are apt to be rather 
trying, and sorest hearts are often fullest of 
praise. 

Happy are they who learn somewhere to hasten 
for refuge to the hope set before them. Fifty 
years ago, the Pemberton mill in Lawrence fell, 
and the factory girls, pinned in by timbers, found 
themselves cut off by flames from rescue. Instead 
of screaming in terror, they sang, "Nearer my 



90 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

God to Thee," and smothering the crackle of the 
blaze went heavenward in a chariot of fire. What- 
ever the storm or stress, if we can believe that a 
wise and loving Father is over all, and that He 
must have time in which to perfect the characters 
of beings such as we are, we may win peace. 

There are days when the intrepid soul falters 
where it firmly trod, but what can we do ? We are 
here in a world of stern denials, heart-breaking 
refusals, sharp rebuffs. What can we do? We 
must live. As men we dare not break off the game 
ourselves. We must be true men. What can 
we do but 

" Stretch lame hands of faith, and grope 
And gather dust and chaff, and call 
To what we feel is Lord of all, 
And faintly trust the larger hope." 

Some of us can do better, and "march breast for- 
ward." All of us may abide in the kingdom which 
cannot be shaken. 

In the "Legend of Jubal" we are told of old, 
sweet, pleasant days before men knew death. They 
played, danced, and sang in a life without serious- 
ness or greatness. But after sorrow came, friends 
and families lived in a tender light, earth 
seemed lovelier when they knew they were soon 
to leave it, the idea of death which was soon to 
claim them, bade them live in earnest, and tragedy 
and sorrow led to depth, heroism, and faith un- 
known before. 



IX 

THE USE OF THE REMAINDERS 

In nothing else are we more extravagant than 
in our use of the remainders ; odds and ends, rem- 
nants, broken lots, — we sell them for a song, fifty 
cents on a dollar ; throw them on a counter for a 
bargain sale. Well enough in a store, but folly 
in the use of the fag ends of better times, fortune, 
health and courage. At Poitiers the Black Prince 
with his ragged, famished, weary fragment, 
hemmed in by a full-fed enemy five times larger, 
turned defeat to victory. William of Orange 
won success for the Netherlands because through 
three- fourths of his career he knew how to handle 
the remainder. At Marston Moor the Parlia- 
mentary troops were broken. But look! yonder 
are Cromwell and Fairfax with the Ironsides 
calmly singing a Psalm. The remnant swept the 
field. At Waterloo the allies were beaten at first. 
Wellington said to Crevy at Brussels after the 
fight : "It has been the nearest run thing you ever 
saw in your life. Blucher lost fourteen thousand 
men Friday night, and got so licked I could not 
find him in the morning." But the remainder — 

The grippe strikes you hard; a remnant from 

coal-tar slays the microbe. Cotton seed was once 

a wasted remainder, now it sells for millions. Tons 

of hornblende are crushed to find a piece of radium 

91 



92 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

you can push through the eye of a needle, but 
that bit of energy revolutionizes science. The 
margin crowns the winner. The runner who can 
fling fresh courage into the final spurt, the orator 
who can marshal new resources, the physician 
with another remedy, the lawyer with another 
proof, gain the day. Said Webster, "Go as deep 
as you will, you will always find that Jeremiah 
Mason is below you." 

Happy is the man who forbids the fiercest 
storm to destroy the remainder of his courage. 
Here is a man with fortune down, eating a crust 
and a cold potato from a tin plate, but there is a 
smile on his face. "What are you thinking of, my 
cheerful friend?" "Of the time when I shall dine 
on turkey from a Haviland." The turkey may 
linger in cold storage for years, and the quails 
fly in joyous freedom, but he has something finer 
than they, — a brave, unconquerable spirit. 

You have lost your health; you are nervous, 
sleepless, haunted by fears. Your wise physician 
says, "Nature works towards recovery. Twenty- 
five million millions of red corpuscles are swift 
and eager in artery, nerve, vein and muscle. 
Every breath invites health." "But I cannot 
sleep," you moan, and this wise physician smiles 
gently and says : "Do not worry about that ; you 
will not die if you lose several nights of sleep. 
Sleep is like a gentle dove, which flies away if you 
frantically try to clutch it. Ask God to help you 
serve Him with a quiet mind, and before you know 



THE USE OF THE REMAINDERS 93 

it the dove of sleep may fly to your pillow. God's 
universe rallies to help you." 

You break an arm; a million corpuscles are 
marshalled to mend it. Typhoid catches you; 
trust in God and in your good physician; be 
calm. It is a part of your lif e-experience. There 
will be less fever if you do not worry. If the gate 
opens a little earlier than you expected into the 
finer country, you will be better off than the rest 
of us left in dust or mud, chilled by bleak winds, 
tossed by fierce tempests. A cottage in the heav- 
enly country is better than Windsor Castle. 

You lose your fortune, every dollar ; but integ- 
rity and courage stay by. "I have made a mis- 
take," you lament. You don't expect to be al- 
ways wise, do you? Perhaps it was not a mis- 
take. A "voyage-letter" read in mid-ocean by a 
father with a genius for worrying read thus, 
"Don't worry, father. Perhaps it is not so." 

See that man, calm, strong, confident ; he went 
through stormy days and dreary nights and did 
not scorn the remainder. Suppose Frederick the 
Great had lost his nerve or drawn the stopper 
from that bottle of corrosive sublimate at the 
close of the sixth campaign of the Seven Years' 
War. The land was desolate ; over half a million 
men had perished in battle, misery, and ravage. 
Where were fresh men and horses to come from? 
His courage and sense of duty did not falter, and 
in a little while the Empress Elizabeth of Russia 
died and her nephew, who received the crown, was 



94 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

an admirer of Frederick; Mr. Pitt retired from 
office; England and France paired oif ; Turkey 
with one hundred thousand men threatened Aus- 
tria from the south. The war was over. 

Said a prisoner, "Had I not been arrested and 
convicted I should today be a hopeless drunkard; 
now I know Christ as my Savior." Paul went to 
Rome in a tempest, and "some on planks, and 
some on other things from the ship, and so it came 
to pass that they all escaped safe to land." You 
are having a hard time amid business reverses, 
poverty, ill-health ; lift up your head, cherish the 
remainders of faith and courage. A stormy pas- 
sage, but the home port is near, "and every wave 
is charmed." There may be much good in the 
remainder. 

The best of life may be in the remainder. It 
should be ; heavy winds mastered ; follies of youth 
past; flighty nerves steadied; hard lessons 
learned; we ought to enter calm wisdom, a tran- 
quil and collected mind, the majesty of an un- 
daunted spirit. Life's choicest treasure may be 
in the remainder. The fever and strain are over; 
many illusions have disappeared, and in their place 
are maturity, steadfastness and fortitude. Not 
only in the last fragments of life, but in the rem- 
nants which are scattered along the way, do we 
often find our richest treasure. In seasons of re- 
creation; in resting hours amid the busy weeks, 
when friend meets friend ; when the fever of busi- 
ness is hushed; when the mart of trade is de- 



THE USE OF THE REMAINDERS 95 

serted, the office closed; when mind plays freely 
upon mind; when we seem to be doing nothing; 
in quiet evenings, vacation days, — the best of life 
may be found in these unassuming remainders. 

When busy with our regular work we lay the 
foundations and raise the walls, but the design, 
lofty or humble, a palace or a hovel, is found in 
the remainder. We hasten hither and thither; 
we struggle and toil, we joke and laugh and 
achieve, but in the remnants we hear the music 
which nerves and cheers for victory. 

We must not forget that the remainder tests 
the character most sharply. 

Not when the bank account overflows, but when 
poverty threatens, do we show most clearly what 
we are made of. Not when friends smile, when 
trade is good, crops are heavy, but in seasons of 
trial, disappointment and want, when panic smites, 
drought withers, stocks shrink and customers pass 
by, do we show the quality of our characters. 

" When our light is low, 
When the blood creeps, and the nerves prick 
And tingle, and the heart is sick, 
And all the wheels of being slow/' 

does the sharpest test come. 

Not when we are in the full tide of victorious 
strength, not when we are in the blaze of noonday 
struggle, but in the still hours, when the candle 
burns dimly, when the tide ebbs, when health and 
fortune wane, friends scatter, disappointments 
gather, sorrows multiply, applause dies down and 



96 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

gladness hides her face, then in the solemn re- 
mainders we show what manner of men we are. 

Wealth is a searching test, but when fire or 
flood sweeps it away, the probe pierces deeper. 
When your vigor has lost its note of gladness will 
your spirit rise to assert the supremacy of your 
characer? We admire Scott's genius; Marmion 
and Ivanhoe gleam with an unfading beauty. 
But braver than the knight of the nameless shield 
was the spirit which used the remainder of a ma- 
jestic life to pay a debt of honor, and drove the 
pen with feverish speed till the work was done and 
the tired hand rested at last in the coffin. 

There is nothing in Vicksburg finer than 
Grant's use of the remainder of his life, when to 
place his family beyond want he resisted disease 
inch by inch, with a courage as fine as that which 
gives Appomatox its lustre. Lamb's "Elia" calls 
forth our admiration, but admiration rises to 
praise as we think of him walking hand in hand 
with his sister as the clouds of delirium gathered 
in her bewildered brain. 

George Herbert, famous in English pulpit and 
song, planned and trained for a distinguished ca- 
reer at the court of King James. The death of 
the king and other friends blighted his prospects ; 
he went into retirement for a little at Kent, gath- 
ered together his energies for a fresh endeavor, 
and came forth to make the remainder rich and 
fruitful. It would not be easy to find in the 
proud annals of England a more commanding 



THE USE OF THE REMAINDERS 97 

genius than Richard Hooker. An unhappy mar- 
riage made a retired parish grateful, but the re- 
mainder was more enduring than the splendors of 
Canterbury, as he wrote of law "whose seat is 
the bosom of God, and her voice the harmony of 
the world. All things in heaven and earth do her 
homage, — the very least as feeling her care, and 
the greatest as not exempted from her power." 

John Milton, poet and trumpet of the Puritans, 
when told by his physician that if he persisted in 
writing he would lose the use of the remaining 
eye, believing that his country needed his pen, 
did not flinch for a moment and passed into utter 
blindness. A vigorous man told me some time ago 
that almost a generation ago four doctors told 
him he could only live a few months ; only one of 
those doctors is now alive. He faced the remain- 
der and won. 

We seldom know enough to be able to say that 
the case is hopeless provided there is a powerful 
will. Whoever has that is 

" Patient in toil, serene amidst alarms ; 
Inflexible in faith; inflexible in arms." 

We are here to play the game to the finish, to find 
the treasure in every part of life, and to use it, 
man- fashion. How painful the reflection as we 
look back on our life-work in retrospect! How 
good to think that the fragment that remains 
may be like the boy's loaves and fishes. "It's 
maest o't tinsel wark," said a village critic of 



98 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

Brown of Haddington's early sermons. Later 
he said "It's a' gowd noo." Whatever the past, 
the richest jewel of the whole life may be found in 
the remainder if we have grace to find it. 



THE LATER YEARS 

It is singular that the one business for which 
we have the longest and most insistent training, 
about which we are lectured at, preached to, and 
exhorted with a monotony untiring, should be so 
poorly done. We have heard from many quar- 
ters that many of us who are getting near the 
evening are almost as trying as those in callow 
youth. We read with fear and trembling Ste- 
venson's keen arraignment of "crabbed age," in 
which we tend to become cowardly, niggardly and 
suspicious. Holmes is scarcely less severe when 
he compares oldish people with pears over-ripe, — 
mellow, sweetish, insipid. 

The fact that one's character is well-established 
and one's integrity admired for years does not 
guarantee fidelity to the end. An undergrowth 
of selfishness may trip him yet. He has been in 
the straight and narrow path so long that he may 
come unconsciously to think that he can go alone ; 
hence he ceases to watch and pray. Moses was 
elderly when he spoke unadvisedly with his lips ; 
David was no longer a youth when he fell into 
grievous sin ; and Asa must have been in the six- 
ties when he led Israel to her first foreign alliance 
and with gold from palace and temple bought the 
friendship of Ben-hadad; and when the prophet 

99 



100 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

rebuked him for his lack of faith and courage the 
king shut up the daring censor in prison. Court 
records contain many names of oldish rascals who 
had kept outwardly straight for half a century. 

Then there is a world of petty sins, — habits 
of speech and conduct that do not send men to the 
penitentiary, but threaten to send those who have 
to live with them to the insane asylum, — which 
the later years bring out in beautiful profusion, 
such as ill-temper, fretfulness, worry, sharp-deal- 
ing, cynicism, uncharity, niggardliness. Were 
some things said before marriage which are said 
in the later years, many a man would pause on the 
edge of the precipice, many a woman would re- 
spond to the momentous question, "Thank you, 
I'll try a little longer the fortunes of single 
blessedness." A jaded couple were going along 
the street one hot day in July. They were evi- 
dently on the shady side of fifty, and the man said 
to the woman, "Oh you are always fussing and 
stewing!" Few would guess that they were in 
their honey-moon. 

Patience is a jewel partly because it is rare, and 
it does not always increase in brilliancy in the 
later years. How easy to let the temper grow 
disagreeable, the disposition sour, the tongue 
sharp, when one is beyond sixty; to exchange 
youthful rashness for elderly peevishness, early 
extravagance for late parsimony, juvenile fresh- 
ness for ancient acidity. A child in a passion is 
not especially beautiful, but he is an angel com- 



THE LATER YEARS 101 

pared to an old man in a fit of ill temper. A pet- 
tish girl is a trial, but a fretful old lady is an ava- 
lanche of discomfort. A saucy boy may be a 
jewel in the rough, but a cross-grained old fellow 
is a dispensation of woe. There is hope that the 
coltish fury of a youth may be curbed and a 
steady family steed appear, but an oldish chap 
prancing foolishly about like a spoiled child 
makes angels weep. Said an old lady, "Any one 
past seventy should no longer be the target for 
criticism." The remark has a value, but it were 
better not to reckon too much on the immunity. 
Elderly people are sometimes tempted to take it 
for granted that they are privileged to say or do 
what they please : their reputation is firmly estab- 
lished, either as so well-to-do as to be above criti- 
cism, or as so poor and unfortunate as to be be- 
neath it, and they are not always charming com- 
panions. They may be brusque to rudeness, plain- 
spoken to impoliteness, cautious to a chronic 
opposition to everything they do not initiate. It 
was an oldish man whose favorite form of church 
work was to raise an objection. The older 
brother in the famous parable did not repent of 
his ill-temper, and no doubt there were days when 
the younger son longed for the grunting of the 
pigs. 

One reason for this dismal state of things is 
that after the flush of youth is over and the 
sturdy vigor of middle life is spent, failing 
strength exposes one to germs of selfishness 



102 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

against which he had been immune before. There 
is less power to resist the malaria of fault-finding 
and petty complaining. Nerve-fiber seems plen- 
tier and nearer the surface. A person who never 
knew that he had any nerves, now calls his asso- 
ciates to witness that he has nothing else. Sleep 
is lighter; buoyancy is on the wane; the world 
has lost the flush of heaven which lies about us in 
our infancy, and the glorious battlements which 
ought to cast a light on eager faces are hidden 
behind a fog-bank of worry. Zeal and enthusi- 
asm have died down; disappointments have 
frightened away our ideals, conscience has lost its 
snap, integrity is frayed at the edges, good tem- 
per is worn threadbare, and we who once were 
sunny optimists do well if we keep ourselves a 
part of the time in the class of cheerful pessi- 
mists. 

A prince amid these rulers of darkness among 
the elderly is ill-temper. Nothing is more dan- 
gerous or more common. It does not waste 
money, break banks, tread down chastity, or carry 
one reeling down the street but who shall say it 
is not as evil as profanity or petty larceny? It 
converts many a happy home into a premature 
purgatory. There is a menagerie of wild ani- 
mals in ill-temper, hyenas, tigers, serpents, — such 
as jealousy, anger, pride, cruelty, bitterness, un- 
charity, sulkiness, touchiness, doggedness, self- 
conceit, envy, revenge. How we hate it when we 
see it in others ! Many a man who would not lie 



THE LATER YEARS 103 

or swear is ill-tempered. "He is a good man, but 
a little cross-grained," we say, and there comes to 
mind the drastic proverb about the dead flies in 
the apothecary's ointment. 

In Sir Nowell Paton's paintings there is a trick 
of art by which he enhances the effect of the de- 
sign by contrast. On the corner of the canvas 
which is adorned with knights, ladies, fairies and 
children, may be seen a toad, lizard, or slimy snail. 
In ancient sculpture, griffins and gorgons grin 
and threaten among faces of angels and saints 
on cathedral walls. So in many a home, other- 
wise as happy as the fields of Paradise, there 
squats the demon of ill-temper ready with bitter 
sneer, the chilly sleet of frosty criticism, the keen 
word of an Iago, sharp as a dagger, to create an 
atmosphere of gloom and depression. It is in the 
church, and a score of prodigals will run away 
from sour saintliness. 

It is a solemnizing thought that one may be 
sliding into these miserable ways without realiz- 
ing it. Who of us sees himself as he is ? He who 
is ripening off well does not realize it. We exag- 
gerate our defects as much as our friends do the 
virtues which they imagine we possess. We who 
look at our lives from the inside are so painfully 
conscious of our shortcomings that what our in- 
dulgent friends call success we call failure. Many 
a noble soul is so painfully conscious of things left 
undone that he will not admit to himself that he 
does anything worth doing. While this is true, 



104 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

while our judgment of our condition is not very 
reliable, it is all we have, and we are bound to use 
it as best we may. Habit is so insidious and so 
bewildering, it is so natural to look for excuses 
for our conduct, that before we know it we are 
Pharisees, self-deceived, self-satisfied, while our 
friends are saying, "Poor old fellow, he does not 
seem to realize how disagreeable he is." 

There are a few things which ought to cheer 
those who are on the edge of the evening. One 
is that we take our point of view along with us. 
Some one asked a keen old lawyer how it seemed 
to be at his time of life, "Just the same as always 
before, only there are no old men." Who of us 
does not remember with pain the first time he was 
given to understand that he was in the class of 
the elderly. I was walking one day with a young 
fellow, little dreaming that my forty-five years 
entitled me to the dignity of the oldish. I said, 
"You take a pretty lively gait." "Yes, and you 
walk pretty well for an old gentleman." We get 
used to the new situation after a while. The man 
of eighty-nine declares he does not feel a minute 
older than he did when he was eighty. 

The day when one finds that he is a grand- 
father is a momentous date for him. The world 
is never quite the same, for he realizes slowly that 
another generation has appeared, and before very 
long he must quit the stage. He gathers himself 
together after a little, reflects that only great- 
grandparents are really aged, but the blow has 
been given and the scar remains. 



THE LATER YEARS 105 

Another reflection is that there is a blessing in 
age as well as in youth. After one gets his sec- 
ond wind and passes beyond the depression he ex- 
pected to find in the later years, he discovers many 
crumbs of comfort he never nibbled before. He 
rejoices that he has got along so far without seri- 
ous calamity or open shame, that he has paid his 
bills and kept out of jail, that he is no crazier 
than his neighbors, and hears the wolf of famine 
and distress only from a distance. Much of the 
fever and strain are over. He has seen so many 
formidable combinations dissolve that he begins 
to hope that he will get through without down- 
fall. As Plato says in his fine way, "Certainly 
old age has a great sense of calm and freedom, 
when the passions relax their hold and you have 
escaped from the control, not of one master, but 
of many." 

A wealth of experience, a steadiness of judg- 
ment, a maturity of character, give singular 
weight to the later years. Browning's Asolando 
with its charge to "Greet the unseen with a cheer" 
is the fruit of the later years. Suppose Titian 
had thought that ninety was the dead line, — the 
"Battle of Lepanto" would not have been com- 
pleted at ninety-eight. 

The man of seventy cannot run as fast as the 
man of sixteen, but his opinion is worth more 
when he gets there. We owe a large debt to Dr. 
Osier for telling us that "the effective, moving, 
vitalizing work of the world is done between the 



106 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

ages of twenty-five and forty," because he stimu- 
lated an inquiry which has led us to see that it 
is not so. The great doctor was stirring up young 
men to hard work and he hit us older fellows 
harder than he intended, but good has come out 
of the discussion. There never was a time when 
the older men were sought more eagerly in impor- 
tant churches than today; the older lawyers and 
doctors are not laid on the shelf, provided they 
keep their courage and ' chloroform the hook- 
worm. Dr. Dorland studied the careers of four 
hundred famous men and summed up the result 
thus, "Provided that health and optimism remain, 
the man of fifty can command success as readily 
as the man of thirty." 

Only three Presidents of the United States 
were under fifty when inaugurated ; most of them 
had passed their sixtieth birthday. Bismark cre- 
ated the German Empire at fifty-six, and ar- 
ranged the Triple Alliance at seventy-one. Von 
Molkte was past seventy at the time of the Franco- 
Prussian war. Thiers saved the French Republic 
at seventy-seven, and Gladstone was once more 
Prime Minister at eighty-three. It is good to be 
in such company as we approach evening. 

When Numa was offered the crown he said: 
"Every change of human life has its dangers. I 
have drawn others to the worship of the gods, to 
mutual offices of friendship, and to spend the rest 
of their time in tilling the ground and in feeding 
cattle." It was not easy to persuade him to fore- 



THE LATER YEARS 107 

go the pleasures of rustic life. Numa has few 
successors in modern days, but the wisdom of his 
words will not pass. 

The later years have their own wealth and op- 
portunity for calm thoughts, the simple joys of 
friendship and peace of mind, and throwing the 
riches of experience into younger lives. We cer- 
tainly find some of the value of the later years if 
we gain a gentleness of spirit and the poise which 
comes to those who see life in its larger, deeper 
bearings. We may not go so far as did Edmund 
Burke, who said when his son Richard died, "I 
greatly deceive myself, if in this hard season I 
would give a peck of refuse wheat for all that is 
called fame and honor in the world," but we 
would like to win a poise, a breadth, a dignity 
unabashed. We would like to pass into that 
period which is so close to some of us after the 
noble fashion of old Thomas Newcome: "At the 
usual evening hour the chapel bell began to toll, 
and Thomas Newcome's hands outside the bed 
feebly beat time ; and just as the last bell struck, 
a peculiar, sweet smile shone on his face and he 
lifted up his head a little and quietly said, 'Ad- 
sum,' and fell back. It was the word we used at 
school when names were called: and lo, he whose 
heart was as that of a little child had answered 
to his name and stood in the presence of his 
Master." 



XI 
THE UNREMEMBERED 

No one else has a better opportunity than the 
country parson to see and appreciate the quiet, 
modest people who, without any parade take their 
places and do the indispensable things. It is these 
who, by their faithfulness and straightforward 
loyalty to duty, give weight and substance to 
church and state. "The backbone of the army is 
the non-commissioned man." Mr. Lincoln said 
God must think a good deal of common people, 
He made so many of them. It is these "who do 
great things unconscious they are great." 

As we look back through our New England his- 
tory how seldom we think of the thousands who 
made up the rank and file of the armies, who 
stood on guard while officers slept, whose marches 
were long and wearisome, who handled flintlock 
and Winchester with an accuracy gained in for- 
ests and cornfields. Few gained the chair of pro- 
fessor, legislator or judge, but the men knew 
how to milk a cow, swing axe and scythe, wield 
rake and hoe, raise corn, rye, oats and beans, and 
how to face death with unflinching courage. They 
were the bone and sinew of the land. When Bos- 
ton was beleaguered, the valley of the Connecticut 
sent its treasures of grain to suffering fellow-pa- 
triots with a ringing word of courage, and when 

108 



THE UNREMEMBERED 109 

the call came for soldiers the farmers did not hesi- 
tate. 

Only a few men stand out in clear and brilliant 
outline on the page of history ; it was the many 
lowly and persistent souls who cut down trees, 
made roads, followed the plough, cast votes in the 
plain town meeting, built home, church and school- 
house, and in simple faith and unassuming ways 
laid the foundations of the republic. Ceaseless 
honor to the self-denying, resolute, courageous 
men who in cold and heat, darkness and light, 
pain, storm and disappointment, fought the good 
fight and finished their course ! Without them, 
the Hookers, Shermans, Davenports and Putnams 
were a swift and fleeting dream. 

How scant the record of the toils and triumphs 
of the years ! A few names are indelible, the rest 
soon fade away. Every school boy knows of the 
Boston "Tea-party," but Connecticut was as clear 
and strong on the question of taxation as was 
Massachusetts, though less dramatic in method. 
In 1765 the patriots about Hartford learned that 
Jared Ingersoll, stamp-collector for the Crown, 
was coming up river. Arrangements were made 
for several hundred men to meet him a few miles 
below Wethersfield and conduct him to the old 
tavern on Broad Street, Wethersfield, where he 
was compelled to resign his office. He was then 
conducted to Hartford, where he was obliged to 
read his resignation in front of the government 
building. On the back of his white horse as he 



110 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

ambled pensively along, Jared evidently did some 
thinking, for when he was asked afterward how 
he felt with his mounted escort of gleeful patriots, 
he said, "I never before understood the meaning 
of that passage in the Revelation which speaks of 
'Death on a pale horse with Hell following 
after.' " 

We hear much of La Fayette and Rochambeau, 
but quite as important was the work of Baron 
Steuben, a soldier of Frederick the Great, 
through the Seven Years' War. He was per- 
suaded to come to America in 1777, and the next 
year was appointed major-general and inspector- 
general of the army. He changed the mob 
of keen and energetic but unorganized men 
into a disciplined force after the models of the 
great Frederick, whose aide he had been. He 
taught the men the use of the bayonet and ar- 
ranged an efficient staff. 

How came we to gain the invaluable services 
of this man ? In the autumn of 1775 the proposi- 
tion was discussed in Congress of sending a man 
of energy and business capacity to France to 
secure foreign sympathy and aid. There was one 
man in Congress singularly fitted for this daring 
and strategic advance. Naturally the man who 
advocated it most confidently was the man to be 
sent by the committee, of which Franklin and 
Morris were members; he was a country store- 
keeper, Silas Deane of Wethersfield. He con- 
tracted for military supplies which reached this 



THE UNREMEMBERED 111 

country in time for Saratoga, and arranged with 
Steuben, Lafayette, and DeKalb to enlist in the 
American cause. By a strange fatality a cloud 
passed over this able and skilful diplomat, this 
true and unselfish patriot. There have been many 
who have whipped on the nimble lies which his 
enemies told about him, which plunged him into 
poverty and obscurity. The day has not dawned 
for the fulfilment of Robert Morris's prophecy of 
the universal acknowledgment of his merit. It is 
one of the ironies of history that this man, who 
deserves a place with Franklin and Washington, 
should rest in an unmarked grave in a little grave- 
yard on the coast of England. 

And what shall be said of the women? We 
read little of them in the histories, but since that 
day in the autumn in 1636 when agile Rachel 
Stiles pushed ahead of clumsy men discussing 
precedence and was the first to reach the shore and 
plant her foot on the soil of Windsor, women have 
had a large share in the struggle with the wolves, 
bears, Indians, hardships and trials of New Eng- 
land. When brave men shouldered their muskets 
or rifles and went against the Dutch, Narragan- 
setts, British, and rebels, who were more daunt- 
less than the mothers, wives and sisters, who with 
sad hearts and intrepid faces, spun the yarn, 
wove the cloth, and made the butternut coat, filled 
the knapsack, and with a kiss and a trembling, 
thrilling word, sent those men of nerve on their 
way of duty and death? It was harder, it re- 



112 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

quired more patience and fortitude, to hold fast 
to faith and hope in the lonely home, through 
long, tiresome days and longer, restless nights, 
than to go out on an expedition which demanded 
grit and heroism, but it was the lot of the women 
to stay at home, take care of children and farm, 
pray to the God of battles, and send messages of 
strength and courage to the brave defenders. 

They did stay, they made bread, washed dishes, 
tried out lard, made soap, salted down beef and 
pork, converted crabbed apples and golden pump- 
kins into glorious pies for the young patriots 
around the table. How steadily worked the old, 
creaking loom! How swiftly flew the spinning- 
wheel ! They milked the cows, fed the pigs, coaxed 
the coy pullets to lay, and, with a sharp eye for 
wolf and Indian, planted the garden and helped 
get in the hay. When voices grew harsh and tem- 
pestuous, who could make peace like a woman? 
Who could so wisely deal with the stormy delirium 
of adolescence ! The benighted creatures had not 
heard of the modern methods ; the only use they 
had for a club was to knock over a bear with. 
They were quite as likely to use the imperative 
as the subjective mood even if thy did joggle the 
nerve-cells a little too severely, but they knew how 
to do the work. Who drilled the Catechism into 
the children and made Connecticut the birthplace 
of clockmakers and theologians? What a roll, 
the two Edwardses, Hopkins, Bellamy, Beecher 
and Seth Thomas ! 



THE UNREMEMBERED 118 

These clear-sighted women found time to give 
a touch of beauty to the humble home; they 
trained the sweet honeysuckle about the door, they 
planted the brilliant hollyhock. First and last 
in loving and thoughtful service were women, 
whose pleasant voices mingled with the rumble 
and roar of fathers and brothers and lifted old 
Antioch to the rafters, while with glancing eyes 
they wooed bashful youths toward Heaven. When 
the saints sat in the zero meeting houses and swal- 
lowed frozen chunks of theology or patiently 
watched "ninthly" and "tenthly" pour forth from 
the lips of the parson in frosty outline, who 
helped the tithingman quiet restive children and 
awakened the husband who was freezing to death? 
Whose flying fingers knit the many stockings, 
mittens and mufflers, and made the coats which an 
old-fashioned winter could not penetrate? Who 
fed the minister in his pastoral round and cheered 
his drooping spirits with a good, square meal? 

Then the sewing circle! The tongue of an 
angel were needed to sing its praises. Woman 
was the queen in that kingdom of work and recre- 
ation. It was newspaper, theater, club, lyceum, 
business exchange, market-place, all in one. It 
relieved the monotony of a hard grind, scattered 
the blues, promoted sociability and made matches. 
How could the church have existed or theology 
have sifted into people's minds, or the paths 
toward freedom and reform been opened without 
it? When the meeting house needed shingling, or 



114 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

the question of displacing f ootstoves with larger 
gear is up, when a carpet or an organ must be 
secured, the modern Paul thinks instinctively of 
the modern Persis, and the inventive Dorcas. 
When hymnbooks are required for the vestry, or 
the parish expenses overlap the income, the 
shrewd Prisca will find some way to pry open 
Aquila's pocketbook with a beanpod or an oyster- 
shell. Fair is chicken pie, rich and fragrant are 
baked beans, magical is pumpkin pie, pleasant as 
manna are jelly and doughnuts. We have heard 
of a church built of onions, and in the good old 
days the women did most of the weeding amid 
the fragrant bulbs. Many a chapel has been 
decorated with scalloped oysters and pink tea. 
People must have recreation, and before the gen- 
tle game of football was invented, there were 
huskings. But what were they without pretty 
girls, and what were a red ear without a pair of 
ruby lips to match it? 

Good cheer, courage, faith, and love spring up 
in the footsteps of the unremembered women. 
Rare is the life sublime, uninspired by a good 
woman. We celebrate the famous prayer-meet- 
ing at the haystack, but who taught those college 
boys to pray? Rich and varied is the story of 
the unremembered. 



XII 
OPTIMISM, THE MINISTER'S BUSINESS 

Varied and unremitting is the task of the min- 
ister. He is teacher and promoter in religion, 
which is at the heart of everything in the world, 
and lays hold of things in heaven and earth not 
dreamed of in our philosophy. Emerging from 
the seminary he is expected to be conservative 
with the conservatives, liberal with the liberals, 
wise with the wise and a sympathetic friend of the 
foolish. He must hold firmly the truths of a de- 
cadent theology and keep an eye on the eastern 
sky for the dawning of a new day. He must dis- 
cover the good in Calvin, Servetus and Mother 
Eddy. He should be scientific, artistic, poetic, 
practical. He must be able to make the nimble 
dollar go as far as the dollar of the fathers, yet 
he cannot afford to seem close. He must be able 
to speak well on any subject, on any occasion, at 
a moment's notice, whether he be struck with 
grip, toothache, blues or poverty. He must keep 
up his classics, be familiar with the latest book, 
and infallible in his knowledge of the pedigree of 
Cain's wife. With tastes educated to the tune of 
two thousand dollars a year, he must be a model 
of sweet and angelic contentment on one-half that 
sum. 

His skill in selecting a companion in his home 

115 



116 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

must outrival the wise man in Moore's Utopia, for 
she must out-housekeep the housekeepers, out- 
pray the other saintly women of the church, out- 
sew the sewing society, out-train the teachers, and 
out-club the clubbists. 

The parson must know the latest science, be in- 
telligent upon the President's latest scheme for 
muzzling the trusts, and see the wisdom concealed 
in the latest fad. He must lead the wandering 
sheep back to the fold, pilot distressed mariners 
on a sea of trouble to the desired haven, get the 
calf fatted for the prodigal, reduce the cantank- 
erousness of the elder brother, and set everybody 
at work. He must keep up the Sunday School, 
fill the prayer meeting with devout and earnest 
worshipers, and when Sunday comes he must 
stand in the pulpit, lift the congregation heaven- 
ward on the wings of prayer, feed, cheer and in- 
spire. He must be able to rejoice with those who 
enjoy poor health, weep with those who linger in 
the furnace of affliction, socialize with socialists, 
and grange with the granger. He must be on 
speaking terms with political economy, political 
science, hypnotism, basket-ball, religious peda- 
gogy, philosophy, biology, higher criticism, ath- 
letics, advertising, management of moving pic- 
ana therapeutics! I never see a company of 
theological students graduating without thinking 
that they out-Napoleon Napoleon in courage, 
out-Peary Peary in daring. They must be ac- 
complished in every virtue, bold yet cautious, en- 



THE MINISTER'S BUSINESS 117 

thusiastic yet considerate, venturesome yet level- 
headed. They must be wise and devout sons to 
the mothers in Israel, chums with joyous youths, 
responsive, yet self-controlled and discreet, when 
gentle eyes flash their friendly messages, and fur- 
nish cool, hard-headed business men with solid 
chunks of practical righteousness. They must 
have a common sense which would have delighted 
Franklin, a practical insight which would have 
been as pleasing as another wife to Solomon, an 
aloofness from the world which St. Francis 
would have applauded, and a spirituality which 
would have charmed Paul. They must be able to 
say with Robert Burdette when offered strawber- 
ries in February at a banquet, "No, I thank you ; 
it will be all the harder to go back to prunes," 
and do it with unfeigned gladness. 

They must tell the truth though it call forth re- 
sentment, listen to sharp criticism as to entranc- 
ing music, and never say a foolish thing. Like 
his Master, the minister must be dignified and in- 
dependent in the house of Simon the Pharisee, 
warm-hearted at the festive table of the publican, 
tender with the outcast, and patient with the 
wayward. The college boy must think of him as 
one of the fellows he is glad to meet, and the dying 
must rejoice to take his hand as he moves toward 
the Great Divide. 

The country parson must know how to harness 
a horse, milk a cow, plant a garden, paint a room, 
tinker the clock, and make hens lay. He should 



118 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

be far more accomplished than his unfortunate 
brother in the city. The task of the latter is 
simplicity itself. If a parishioner in the city does 
not like his pastor, he can slip out into another 
church, but in the country he remains to find 
fault, cut down his subscription and keep the 
blanket wet. The minister must meet him with 
self-respect, courage, kindness and a desire to win 
him to the Kingdom. 

Varied is the task of the country minister. His 
prime business is to make God real within the 
whole sphere of his influence, real in the pulpit 
as he interprets the great truths of Redemption, 
real in daily life as he walks with Jesus in high 
companionship. There is no good cause to which 
he can afford to turn a deaf ear, no form of well- 
being in which he should not be interested, no de- 
partment of his church in which his influence 
should not be felt. His sympathy and prayers 
go out to the toilers in the mines, sufferers in Ar- 
menia, workers in sweat-shops, the pensioners and 
the pensionless, the wise and prudent, the thrift- 
less and the improvident. But his business is to 
make God real to every one he can reach, to eradi- 
cate sin, to bring Christ and his salvation in con- 
tact with the misery and depravity of the world. 

The most powerfully spiritual, the most expert 
in dealing with the sophisms of the human soul 
are inadequate enough for this colossal task, but 
the true minister, whatever his training or expe- 
rience, seeks to discover to men their souls. Busi- 



THE MINISTER'S BUSINESS 119 

ness, home cares, pleasures, throw their concrete 
over many a life. It is the minister's business to 
break up that concrete, to disclose the hidden 
springs of joy, hope and love. A pupil of Du- 
gald Stewart spoke in terms of deepest affection 
of his great teacher thus, "He was the first to 
make me realize that I had a soul." 

It is easy to forget that the superb task of the 
minister is not to preside over a philanthropic in- 
stitution, in which gymnasium, cooking-classes, 
health-cure, money-raising, and athletics absorb 
his time and exhaust his strength, but rather to 
transform men into the divine likeness. And this 
can be achieved only as he is able to persuade 
them that Christ has a great career for them 
which is practical, inviting, indispensable. 

The word which may suggest this task of the 
minister's is Optimism. When Voltaire started 
the word "optimism" on its distinguished career, 
little did his benevolent soul imagine its wide use 
and utility. We find it decorating the interior of 
our trolley cars, a staple with skilful and success- 
ful founders of new religious sects and new ways 
of getting well without drugs, — save perhaps a 
drug for the imagination. 

There are different kinds of optimism and the 
value, the abiding value, of the disposition de- 
pends on the kind ; the old, tried way was to face 
and fight our troubles, and depend largely on our 
own energy and courage for the rosy hue in the 
future : the modern way is to shut our eyes to our 



120 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

trials, play that they do not exist. We older peo- 
ple are rather prejudiced in favor of the former 
method, but we must all admit that there is a good 
deal of value in the latter, especially for persons 
of a certain quality of mind and degree of cul- 
ture. There must be a wide receptivity for the 
doctrine of suggestion, the imagination that there 
is nothing the matter with us, though nerves 
quiver with pain and the solar plexus is over- 
worked in its effort to slumber. No one sees more 
clearly than the minister that the determination 
to be an optimist is a valuable asset, but he also 
sees that it must have a solid basis in righteous- 
ness and common sense, or it becomes at length a 
delusion and a source of weakness. 

Augustus and Angelina, billing and cooing in 
those seraphic days before marriage, dream of 
bliss unutterable; Augustus is sure Paradise will 
always charm while Angelina smiles, and Ange- 
lina is sure that Augustus will always be chival- 
ric and kind, but the time may come when love 
will be sharply tested. A gulf may yawn; the 
wife may be tempted by another, the husband, 
blinded and delirious, plunge toward the dark. 
The cheerful optimism of those halycon days had 
no foundation. 

Venice was never more optimistic than when she 
was passing through her golden era. Dreaming 
that all was well, the people lived on in gay, 
light-hearted security, but with no home life, the 
decay of which invited disaster. 



THE MINISTER'S BUSINESS 121 

The optimism which is the minister's business 
is not the glittering hue of hopefulness which 
leads one Micawber-like to expect to pluck ripe 
clusters of grapes where there is not even a vine. 
George Macdonald's bright eyed little woman, 
whose eyes were like a morning in June, was al- 
ways saying, "Something good is waiting for you 
yonder, if you will only have patience to go on 
until you reach it." But even she would perhaps 
lose a little of her radiant sunshine if she knew 
she was living beyond her income. Cheerful- 
ness is like a gold-mine beneath a threadbare car- 
pet, a silver tongue speaking from a meager li- 
brary, but there must be gold and intelligence 
somewhere near. 

Happy is the man whom Isaac Barrow eulo- 
gized as "smiling always with a never-failing se- 
renity of countenance, and flourishing in an im- 
mortal youth." Gloom, fretfulness, worry, dis- 
content, sleety nagging, chill the tender plants 
of happiness and peace, and at last when evening 
shadows gather, we lament that we did not know 
how well off we were. It is the minister's fine task 
to help a little in the cultivation of an atmosphere 
which shall ward off such disaster. To do this is 
an achievement. Says a wise thinker, "If I can 
put one touch of rosy sunset into the life of any 
man or woman, I shall feel that I have worked 
with God." 

True optimism is a triumph over difficulties, and 
not a closing of the eyes to facts. It is the hid- 



122 NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

den path up the Heights of Abraham, and the sex 
which is sometimes spoken of as weaker more 
often wears the laurel in this struggle for the goal 
of peace. The fling is sometimes cast at the min- 
ister that he preaches mostly to women. He 
might do worse, for if he can cultivate in women's 
hearts a true and well-balanced optimism, he is 
feeding the springs of high endeavor. The only 
one of the Round Table who kept his soul clean 
and so won the sight of the Holy Grail was Sir 
Galahad whose strength was invincible because a 
pure woman 

" Sent the deathless passion in her eyes 
Through him, and made him hers, and laid her 
Mind on him, and he believed in her belief." 

Milton makes Paradise Lost turn on the fail- 
ure of a woman to keep her eyes on the goal of a 
high optimism. Shakespeare's heroes are all hero- 
ines. How glorious the company, — Cordelia, Des- 
demona, Virgilia, Catharine. How strong and 
brilliant they are. The redemption of a play 
usually turns on the wisdom of a woman. Above 
the artists, philosophers, poets, statesmen of Ath- 
ens, above the roof of the Parthenon on the rocky 
Acropolis, in honor of the guardian of the city, 
stood the virgin goddess Athena?, with gold- 
crested helmet and gold-tipped spear. Rome was 
the mightiest of the nations while Minerva, the 
virgin daughter of Jupiter, was revered, and pure 
wives and mothers lived in honor. 

It seems a far cry from the high inspiration of 



THE MINISTER'S BUSINESS 123 

a woman to paying one's bills, but the optimism 
which holds its steady movement through stern 
equinoctials must be thrifty. Perhaps one rea- 
son why the teacher of religion needs the exercise 
of chasing the wolf from his door is that he may 
understand the experiences of most of his peo- 
ple. Emerson says, "The pulpit and the press 
have many commonplaces denouncing the thirst 
for wealth ; but if men should take these moralists 
at their word and leave off aiming to be rich, the 
moralists would rush to rekindle at all hazards this 
love of power in the people, lest civilization should 
be undone." 

With a clear appreciation of the value of money 
(an appreciation, alas, too keenly felt because his 
pocket is so empty), eager to head every sub- 
scription-paper with a goodly sum, yet warned by 
experience to be economical, until he hates the 
very word economy, the minister must manage to 
keep himself high-minded, great-hearted, brave in 
his grasp of spiritual truth as the only reality 
worth consideration. Like Mark Tapley, he must 
almost welcome troubles as occasions for "coming 
out strong" in the spiritual. His optimism is that 
of Browning. He delights in Rabbi Ben Ezra 
with his 

" Then welcome each rebuff 
That turns earth's smoothness rough. 



Be our joy three parts pain." 
He may say to his child when hurt, "Never 



1U NOTIONS OF A PARSON 

mind," but he adds, "Be a man." Though his 
heart be torn, his life filled with cares and sor- 
rows, his treasury almost empty, his future 
cloudy, it is his business as a minister of Christ 
to wear an indelible smile, to let his life and his 
preaching ring true to the celestial music. The 
man whose optimism is worth anything never 
thinks of sin as merely a mistake, to be mended 
by suggestion or education. He regards the 
"Don't worry" societies as helpful to the super- 
ficial, and Pres. Eliot's exhortation, "Be sure and 
live on the sunny side" as good so far as it goes. 
He hopes the time will come before many moons 
when the trying paraphernalia of burials, which 
are so pagan and so depressing will pass away 
with the other remnants of the Dark Ages. He 
is quite aware of the fact that he is living in the 
reaction from days when a favorite hymn in 
church was this, — 

" There is a dreadful hell, 
And ever lasting pains, 
Where sinners must with devils dwell, 
In darkness, fire, and chains." 

and therefore he must guard against a syrupy 
gospel. 

He never forgets that optimism works accord- 
ing to great and exacting laws, enthrones the sac- 
rificial Christ in the souls of men, and inspires 
them to lives of integrity and practical holiness. 
With this as the spring of his life, and with daily 



THE MINISTER'S BUSINESS 125 

fellowship with the kingly Master, he will present 
to his fellows an optimism which in their hearts 
they will desire, and in his high endeavor he will 
win the day at last. 



JUL S 1910 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper proces; 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: March 2005 

PreservationTechnologiei 

A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATIO 

1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
(724)779-2111 



6' 



V 



r 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



JU 






